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POLITICAL 


INSTITUTIONS: 

BEING  PART  V 

OF  THE 

PRINCIPLES  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

(The  concluding  Portion  of  Vol.  II.) 


NEW  YORK : 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY, 
1,  3,  and  5 BOND  STEEET. 

1882. 


37"0 

3 


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Qi 


PREFACE  TO  PART  T. 


jCHE  division  of  the  Principles  of  Sociology  herewith  issued, 
deals  with  phenomena  of  Evolution  which  are,  above  all 
others,  obscure  and  entangled.  To  discover  what  truths  may 
be  affirmed  of  political  organizations  at  large,  is  a task  beset 
by  difficulties  that  are  at  once  many  and  great — difficulties 
arising  from  unlikenesses  of  the  various  human  races,  from 
differences  among  the  modes  of  life  entailed  by  circum- 
stances on  the  societies  formed  of  them,  from  the  numerous 
contrasts  of  sizes  and  degrees  of  culture  exhibited  by  such 
societies,  from  their  perpetual  interferences  with  one  another’s 
processes  of  evolution  by  means  of  wars,  and  from  accom- 
panying breakings-up  and  aggregations  in  ever  - changing 
ways. 

Satisfactory  achievement  of  this  task  would  require  the 
labours  of  a life.  Having  been  able  to  devote  to  it  but  two 
years,  I feel  that  the  results  set  forth  in  this  volume  must 
of  necessity  be  full  of  imperfections.  If  it  be  asked  why, 
being  thus  conscious  that  far  more  time  and  wuder  inves- 
tigation are  requisite  for  the  proper  treatment  of  a subject 
so  immense  and  involved,  I have  undertaken  it,  my  reply 
is  that  I have  been  obliged  to  deal  with  political  evolution 
as  a part  of  the  general  Theory  of  Evolution ; and,  with  due 
regard  to  the  claims  of  other  parts,  could  not  make  a more 
prolonged  preparation.  Anyone  who  undertakes  to  trace  the 
general  laws  of  transformation  wffiich  hold  throughout  all 
orders  of  phenomena,  must  have  but  an  incomplete  know- 
ledge of  each  order ; since,  to  acquaint  himself  exhaustively 
with  any  one  order,  demanding,  as  it  would,  exclusive  devo- 


11 


PREFACE. 


tion  of  his  days  to  it,  would  negative  like  devotion  to  any 
of  the  others,  and  much  more  would  negative  generalization 
of  the  whole.  Either  generalization  of  the  whole  ought  never 
to  be  attempted,  or,  if  it  is  attempted,  it  must  be  by  one  who 
gives  to  each  part  such  time  only  as  is  requisite  to  master 
the  cardinal  truths  it  presents.  Believing  that  generalization 
of  the  whole  is  supremely  important,  and  that  no  one  part 
can  be  fully  understood  without  it,  I have  ventured  to  treat 
of  Political  Institutions  after  the  manner  implied : utilizing, 
for  the  purpose,  the  materials  which,  in  the  space  of  fourteen 
years,  have  been  gathered  together  in  the  Descriptive  Sociology , 
and  joining  with  them  such  further  materials  as,  during  the 
last  two  years,  have  been  accumulated  by  inquiries  in  other 
directions,  made  personally  and  by  proxy.  If  errors  found 
in  this  volume  are  such  as  invalidate  any  of  its  leading  con- 
clusions, the  fact  will  show  the  impolicy  of  the  course  I 
have  pursued ; but  if,  after  removal  of  the  errors,  the  leading 
conclusions  remain  outstanding,  this  course  will  be  justified. 

Of  the  chapters  forming  this  volume,  the  first  seven  were 
originally  published  in  the  Fortnightly  Review  in  England; 
and,  simultaneously,  in  monthly  periodicals  in  America, 
France,  and  Germany.  Chapters  VIII  and  IX  were  thus 
published  abroad  but  not  at  home.  Chapters  XVII  and 
XVIII  appeared  here  in  the  Contemporary  Review  ; and  at  the 
same  time  in  the  before-mentioned  foreign  periodicals.  The 
remaining  chapters,  X,  XI,  XII,  XIII,  XIV,  XV,  XVI,  and 
XIX,  now  appear  for  the  first  time ; with  the  exception  of 
chapter  XI,  which  has  already  seen  the  light  in  an  Italian 
periodical — La  Rivista  di  Filosofia  Scientifica. 


London , March , 1882. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

I. — PRELIMINARY 

II. —POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL 

III. — POLITICAL  INTEGRATION 
IV". — POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION 
Y. — POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES 

VI. — POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 

VII. — COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS 

VIII. — CONSULTATIVE  BODIES 

IX. — REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES  ... 

X. — MINISTRIES 

XI. — LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES 

XII. — MILITARY  SYSTEMS 

XIII.  — JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS  ... 

XIV.  — LAWS  ... 

XV. — PROPERTY 

XVI. — REVENUE 

XVII.— THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY 
XVIII. — THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY  ... 
XIX. — POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT 


PAGE 

...  229 
...  244 
...  265 
...  288 
...  311 

...  331 

v, . 366 

„..  397 
...  415 
...  442 

...  451 

...  473 
...  492 
...  513 
...  538 

...  557 
...  568 

...  603 

...  643 


PART  Y. 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


PRELIMINARY. 

§ 434.  Thought  and  feeling  cannot  be  completely  dis- 
sociated. Each  emotion  has  a more  or  less  distinct  frame- 
work of  ideas;  and  each  group  of  ideas  is  more  or  less  suffused 
with  emotion.  There  are,  however,  great  differences  between 
their  degrees  of  combination  under  both  of  these  aspects. 
We  have  some  feelings  which  are  vague  from  lack  of  intel- 
lectual definition ; and  others  to  which  clear  shapes  are  given 
by  the  associated  conceptions.  At  one  time  our  thoughts 
are  distorted  by  the  passion  running  through  them ; and  at 
another  time  it  is  difficult  to  detect  in  them  a trace  of  liking 
or  disliking.  Manifestly,  too,  in  each  particular  case  these 
components  of  the  mental  state  may  be  varied  in  their  pro- 
portions. The  ideas  being  the  same,  the  emotion  joined  with 
them  may  be  greater  or  less ; and  it  is  a familiar  truth  that 
the  correctness  of  the  judgment  formed,  depends,  if  not  on 
the  absence  of  emotion,  still,  on  that  balance  of  emotions 
which  negatives  excess  of  any  one. 

Especially  is  this  so  in  matters  concerning  human  life. 
There  are  two  ways  in  which  men’s  actions,  individual  or 
social,  may  be  regarded.  We  may  consider  them  as  groups 
of  phenomena  to  be  analyzed,  and  the  laws  of  their  depen- 
dence ascertained ; or,  considering  them  as  causing  pleasures 
or  pains,  we  may  associate  with  them  approbation  or  repro- 
bation. Dealing  with  its  problems  intellectually,  we  may 


230 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


regard  conduct  as  always  the  result  of  certain  forces;  or, 
dealing  with  its  problems  morally,  and  recognizing  its  out- 
come as  in  this  case  good  and  in  that  case  bad,  we  may 
allow  now  admiration  and  now  indignation  to  fill  our  con- 
sciousness. Obviously,  it  must  make  a great  difference  in 
our  conclusions  whether,  as  in  the  one  case,  we  study  mens 
doings  as  those  of  alien  creatures,  which  it  merely  concerns 
us  to  understand ; or  whether,  as  in  the  other  case,  we  con- 
template them  as  the  doings  of  creatures  like  ourselves,  with 
whose  lives  our  own  lives  are  bound  up,  and  whose  behaviour 
arouses  in  us,  directly  and  sympathetically,  feelings  of  love 
or  hate. 

In  an  ancillary  work,  The  Study  of  Sociology , I have  de- 
scribed the  various  perversions  produced  in  men's  judgments 
by  their  emotions.  Examples  are  given  showing  how  fears 
and  hopes  betray  them  into  false  estimates ; how  impatience 
prompts  unjust  condemnations ; how  in  this  case  antipathy, 
and  in  that  case  sympathy,  distorts  belief.  The  truth  that 
the  bias  of  education  and  the  bias  of  patriotism  severally 
warp  men’s  convictions,  is  enforced  by  many  illustrations. 
And  it  is  pointed  out  that  the  more  special  forms  of  bias  — 
the  class  bias,  the  political  bias,  the  theological  bias — each 
originates  a predisposition  towards  this  or  that  view  of  public 
affairs. 

Here  let  me  emphasize  the  conclusion  that  in  pursuing 
our  sociological  inquiries,  and  especially  those  on  which  we 
are  now  entering,  we  must,  as  much  as  possible,  exclude 
whatever  emotions  the  facts  are  calculated  to  excite,  and 
attend  solely  to  the  interpretation  of  the  facts.  There  are 
several  groups  of  phenomena  in  contemplating  which  either 
contempt,  or  disgust,  or  indignation,  tends  to  arise  but  must 
be  restrained. 

§ 435.  Instead  of  passing  over  as  of  no  account,  or  else 
regarding  as  purely  mischievous,  the  superstitions  of  the 
primitive  man,  we  must  inquire  what  part  they  play  in 


PRELIMINARY. 


231 


social  evolution ; and  must  be  prepared,  if  need  be,  to  re- 
cognize their  usefulness.  Already  we  have  seen  that  the 
belief  which  prompts  the  savage  to  bury  valuables  with  the 
corpse  and  carry  food  to  the  grave,  has  a natural  genesis ; 
that  the  propitiation  of  plants  and  animals,  and  the  “ worship 
of  stocks  and  stones,”  are  not  gratuitous  absurdities ; and 
that  slaves  are  sacrificed  at  funerals  in  pursuance  of  an  idea 
which  seems  rational  to  uninstructed  intelligence.  Pre- 
sently we  shall  have  to  consider  in  what  way  the  ghost- 
theory  has  operated  politically ; and  if  we  should  find  reason 
to  conclude  that  it  has  been  an  indispensable  aid  to  political 
progress,  we  must  be  ready  to  accept  the  conclusion. 

Knowledge  of  the  miseries  which  have  for  countless  ages 
been  everywhere  caused  by  the  antagonisms  of  societies,  must 
not  prevent  us  from  recognizing  the  all-important  part  these 
antagonisms  have  played  in  civilization.  Shudder  as  we 
must  at  the  cannibalism  which  all  over  the  world  in  early 
days  was  a sequence  of  war — shrink  as  we  may  from  the 
thought  of  those  immolations  of  prisoners  which  have,  tens 
of  thousands  of  times,  followed  battles  between  wild  tribes — 
read  as  we  do  with  horror  of  the  pyramids  of  heads  and  the 
whitening  bones  of  slain  peoples  left  by  barbarian  invaders — 
hate,  as  we  ought,  the  militant  spirit  which  is  even  now 
among  ourselves  prompting  base  treacheries  and  brutal  ag- 
gressions ; we  must  not  let  our  feelings  blind  us  to  the 
proofs  that  inter-social  conflicts  have  furthered  the  develop- 
ment of  social  structures. 

Moreover,  dislikes  to  governments  of  certain  kinds  must 
not  prevent  us  from  seeing  their  fitnesses  to  their  circum- 
stances. Though,  rejecting  the  common  idea  of  glory,  and 
declining  to  join  soldiers  and  school-boys  in  applying  the 
epithet  “ great  ” to  conquering  despots,  we  detest  despotism — 
though  we  regard  their  sacrifices  of  their  own  peoples  and  of 
alien  peoples  in  pursuit  of  universal  dominion  as  gigantic 
crimes;  we  must  yet  recognize  the  benefits  occasionally 
arising  from  the  consolidations  they  achieve.  Neither  the 


232 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


massacres  of  subjects  which  Roman  emperors  directed,  nor 
the  assassinations  of  relatives  common  among  potentates 
in  the  East,  nor  the  impoverishment  of  whole  nations  by  the 
exactions  of  tyrants,  must  so  revolt  us  as  to  prevent  appre- 
ciation of  the  benefits  which  have,  under  certain  conditions, 
resulted  from  the  unlimited  power  of  the  supreme  man.  Nor 
must  the  remembrances  of  torturing  implements,  and  oub- 
liettes, and  victims  built  into  walls,  shut  out  from  our  minds 
the  evidence  that  abject  submission  of  the  weak  to  the 
strong,  however  unscrupulously  enforced,  has  in  some  times 
and  places  been  necessary. 

So,  too,  with  the  associated  ownership  of  man  by  man. 
Absolute  condemnation  of  slavery  must  be  withheld,  even  if 
w~e  accept  the  tradition  repeated  by  Herodotus,  that  to  build 
the  Great  Pyramid  relays  of  a hundred  thousand  slaves  toiled 
for  twenty  years ; or  even  if  we  find  it  true  that  of  the  serfs 
compelled  to  work  at  the  building  of  St.  Petersburg,  three 
hundred  thousand  perished.  Though  aware  that  the  un- 
recorded sufferings  of  men  and  women  held  in  bondage  are 
beyond  imagination,  we  must  be  willing  to  receive  such 
evidence  as  there  may  be  that  benefits  have  resulted. 

In  brief,  trustworthy  interpretations  of  social  arrangements 
imply  an  almost  passionless  consciousness.  Though  feeling 
cannot  and  ought  not  to  be  excluded  from  the  mind  when 
otherwise  contemplating  them,  yet  it  ought  to  be  excluded 
when  contemplating  them  as  natural  phenomena  to  be  under- 
stood in  their  causes  and  effects. 

§ 436.  Maintenance  of  this  mental  attitude  will  be  furthered 
by  keeping  before  ourselves  the  truth  that  in  human  actions 
the  absolutely  bad  may  be  relatively  good,  and  the  absolutely 
good  may  be  relatively  bad. 

Though  it  has  become  a common-place  that  the  institutions 
under  which  one  race  prospers  will  not  answer  for  another, 
the  recognition  of  this  truth  is  by  no  means  adequate.  Men 
who  have  lost  faith  in  “ paper  constitutions/’  nevertheless 


PRELIMINARY. 


233 


advocate  such  conduct  towards  inferior  races,  as  implies  4he 
belief  that  civilized  social  forms  can  with  advantage  be  im- 
posed on  uncivilized  peoples ; that  the  arrangements  which 
seem  to  us  vicious  are  vicious  for  them ; and  that  they  would 
benefit  by  institutions — domestic,  industrial,  or  political — 
akin  to  those  which  we  find  beneficial.  But  acceptance  of 
the  truth  that  the  type  of  a society  is  determined  by  the 
natures  of  its  units,  forces  on  us  the  corollary  that  a regime 
intrinsically  of  the  lowest,  may  yet  be  the  best  possible  under 
primitive  conditions. 

Otherwise  stating  the  matter,  we  must  not  substitute  our 
developed  code  of  conduct,  which  predominantly  concerns 
private  relations,  for  the  undeveloped  code  of  conduct,  which 
predominantly  concerns  public  relations.  Now  that  life  is 
generally  occupied  in  peaceful  intercourse  with  fellow-citizens, 
ethical  ideas  refer  chiefly  to  actions  between  man  and  man ; 
but  in  early  stages,  while  the  occupation  of  life  was  mainly 
in  conflicts  with  adjacent  societies,  such  ethical  ideas  as 
existed  referred  almost  wholly  to  inter-social  actions : men's 
deeds  were  judged  by  their  direct  bearings  on  tribal  welfare. 
And  since  preservation  of  the  society  takes  precedence  of 
individual  preservation,  as  being  a condition  to  it,  we  must, 
in  considering  social  phenomena,  interpret  good  and  bad 
rather  in  their  earlier  senses  than  in  their  later  senses ; and 
so  must  regard  as  relatively  good,  that  'which  furthers  sur- 
vival of  the  society,  great  as  may  be  the  suffering  inflicted  on 
its  members. 

§ 437.  Another  of  our  ordinary  conceptions  has  to  be  much 
widened  before  we  can  rightly  interpret  political  evolution. 
The  words  “ civilized  ” and  “ savage  ” must  have  given  to 
them  meanings  differing  greatly  from  those  which  are  current. 
That  broad  contrast  usually  drawn  wholly  to  the  advantage 
of  the  men  who  form  large  nations,  and  to  the  disadvantage 
of  the  men  who  form  simple  groups,  a better  knowledge 
obliges  us  profoundly  to  qualify.  Characters  are  to  be  found 


234 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


among  rude  peoples  which  compare  well  with  those  of  the 
best  among  cultivated  peoples.  With  little  knowledge  and 
but  rudimentary  arts,  there  in  some  cases  go  virtues  which 
might  shame  those  among  ourselves  whose  education  and 
polish  are  of  the  highest. 

Surviving  remnants  of  some  primitive  races  in  India,  have 
natures  in  which  truthfulness  seems  to  be  organic.  Not  only 
to  the  surrounding  Hindoos,  higher  intellectually  and  rela- 
tively advanced  in  culture,  are  they  in  this  respect  far  superior; 
but  they  are  superior  to  Europeans.  Of  certain  of  these  Hill 
peoples  it  is  remarked  that  their  assertions  may  always  be 
accepted  with  perfect  confidence ; which  is  more  than  can  be 
said  of  manufacturers  who  use  false  trade-marks,  or  of  diplo- 
matists who  intentionally  delude.  As  having  this  trait  may 
be  named  the  Santals,  of  whom  Hunter  says,  “ they  were  the 
most  truthful  set  of  men  I ever  met;”  and,  again,  the  Sowrahs, 
of  whom  Shortt  says,  “ a pleasing  feature  in  their  character 
is  their  complete  truthfulness.  They  do  not  know  how  to 
tell  a lie.”  Noth  withstanding  their  sexual  relations  of  a 
primitive  and  low  type,  even  the  Todas  are  described  as  con- 
sidering “ falsehood  one  of  the  worst  of  vices.”  Though  Metz 
says  that  they  practise  dissimulation  towards  Europeans,  yet 
he  recognizes  this  as  a trait  consequent  on  their  intercourse 
with  Europeans ; and  this  judgment  coincides  with  one  given 
to  me  by  an  Indian  civil  servant  concerning  other  Hill  tribes, 
originally  distinguished  by  their  veracity,  but  who  are 
rendered  less  veracious  by  contact  with  the  whites.  So  rare 
is  lying  among  these  aboriginal  races  when  unvitiated  by  the 
“ civilized,”  that,  of  those  in  Bengal,  Hunter  singles  out  the 
Tipperahs  as  “ the  only  hill-tribe  in  which  this  vice  is  met 
with.” 

Similarly  in  respect  of  honesty,  some  of  these  peoples 
classed  as  inferior  read  lessons  to  those  classed  as  superior. 
Of  the  Todas  just  named,  ignorant  and  degraded  as  they  are 
in  some  respects,  Harkness  says,  “I  never  saw  a people, 
civilized  or  uncivilized,  who  seemed  to  have  a more  religious 


PRELIMINARY. 


235 


respect  for  the  rights  of  meum  and  tuum ” The  Marias 
(Gonds),  “ in  common  with  many  other  wild  races,  hear  a 
singular  character  for  truthfulness  and  honesty.”  Among  the 
Khonds  “ the  denial  of  a debt  is  a breach  of  this  principle, 
which  is  held  to  be  highly  sinful.  ‘ Let  a man / say  they, 
‘ give  up  all  he  has  to  his  creditors/  ” The  Santal  prefers  to 
have  “ no  dealings  with  his  guests ; but  when  his  guests 
introduce  the  subject  he  deals  with  them  as  honestly  as  lie 
would  with  his  own  people : ” “ he  names  the  true  price  at 
first.”  The  Lepchas  “are  wonderfully  honest,  theft  being 
scarcely  known  among  them.”  And  the  Bodo  and  Dhimals 
are  “ honest  and  truthful  in  deed  and  word.”  Colonel  Dixon 
dilates  on  the  “ fidelity,  truth,  and  honesty  ” of  the  Carnatic 
aborigines,  who  show  “ an  extreme  and  almost  touching 
devotion  when  put  upon  their  honour.”  And  Hunter  asserts 
of  the  Chakmas,  that  “ crime  is  rare  among  these  primitive 
people Theft  is  almost  unknown.” 

So  it  is,  too,  with  the  general  virtues  of  these  and  sundry 
other  uncivilized  tribes.  The  Santal  “ possesses  a happy  dis- 
position,” is  “ sociable  to  a fault,”  and  while  the  “ sexes  are 
greatly  devoted  to  each  other’s  society,”  the  women  are  “ ex- 
ceedingly chaste.”  The  Bodo  and  the  Dhimals  are  “ full  of 
amiable  qualities.”  The  Lepcha,  “ cheerful,  kind,  and  patient,” 
is  described  by  Dr.  Hooker  as  a most  “attractive  com- 
panion ; ” and  Dr.  Campbell  gives  “ an  instance  of  the  effect 
of  a very  strong  sense  of  duty  on  this  savage.”  In  like 
manner,  from  accounts  of  certain  Malayo-Polynesian  societies, 
and  certain  Papuan  societies,  may  be  given  instances  show- 
ing in  high  degrees  sundry  traits  which  we  ordinarily 
associate  only  with  a human  nature  that  has  been  long  sub- 
ject to  the  discipline  of  civilized  life  and  the  teachings  of  a 
superior  religion.  One  of  the  latest  testimonies  is  that  of 
Signor  D’ Albertis,  who  describes  certain  Hew  Guinea  people 
he  visited  (near  Yule  Island)  as  strictly  honest,  “ very  kind,” 
“ good  and  peaceful,”  and  who,  after  disputes  between  villages, 
“are  as  friendly  as  before,  bearing  no  animosity;”  but  of 


236 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


whom  the  Eev.  W.  Gf.  Lawes,  commenting  on  Signor 
©’Albertis’  communication  to  the  Colonial  Institute,  says 
that  their  goodwill  to  the  whites  is  being  destroyed  by  the 
whites’  ill-treatment  of  them  : the  usual  history. 

Contrariwise,  in  various  parts  of  the  world  men  of  several 
types  yield  proofs  that  societies  relatively  advanced  in 
organization  and  culture,  may  yet  be  inhuman  in  their  idea's, 
sentiments,  and  usages.  The  Fijians,  described  by  Dr. 
Pickering  as  among  the  most  intelligent  of  unlettered  peoples, 
are  among  the  most  ferocious.  “ Intense  and  vengeful 
malignity  strongly  marks  the  Fijian  character.”  Lying, 
treachery,  theft,  and  murder,  are  with  them  not  criminal,  but 
honourable  ; infanticide  is  immense  in  extent ; strangling 
the  sickly  habitual ; and  they  sometimes  cut  up  while  alive 
the  human  victims  they  are  going  to  eat.  Nevertheless  they 
have  a “ complicated  and  carefully-  conducted  political 
system ; ” well-organized  military  forces  ; elaborate  fortifica- 
tions ; a developed  agriculture  with  succession  of  crops  and 
irrigation  ; a considerable  division  of  labour  ; a separate  dis- 
tributing agency  with  incipient  currency ; and  a skilled 
industry  which  builds  canoes  that  carry  three  hundred 
men.  Take  again  an  African  society,  Dahomey.  We 

find  there  a finished  system  of  classes,  six  in  number;  com- 
plex governmental  arrangements  with  officials  always  in 
pairs ; an  army  divided  into  battalions,  having  reviews  and 
sham  fights ; prisons,  police,  and  sumptuary  laws ; an  agri- 
culture which  uses  manure  and  grows  a score  kinds  of  plants; 
moated  towns,  bridges,  and  roads  with  turnpikes.  Yet  along 
with  this  comparatively  high  social  development  there  goes 
what  we  may  call  organized  criminality.  Wars  are  made  to 
get  skulls  with  which  to  decorate  the  royal  palace ; hundreds 
of  subjects  are  killed  when  a king  dies  ; and  great  numbers 
are  annually  slaughtered  to  carry  messages  to  the  other 
world.  Described  as  cruel  and  blood-thirsty,  liars  and 
cheats,  the  people  are  “void  either  of  sympathy  or  gratitude, 
even  in  their  own  families;”  so  that  “ not  even  the  appearance 


PRELIMINARY. 


237 


of  affection  exists  between  husband  and  wife,  or  between 
parents  and  children.”  The  New  World,  too,  furnished 

when  it  was  discovered,  like  evidence.  Having  great  cities 
of  120,000  houses,  the  Mexicans  had  also  cannibal  gods, 
whose  idols  were  fed  on  warm,  reeking,  human  flesh,  thrust 
into  their  mouths — wars  being  made  purposely  to  supply 
victims  for  them ; and  with  skill  to  build  vast  and  stately 
temples,  there  went  the  immolation  of  two  thousand  five 
hundred  persons  annually,  in  Mexico  and  adjacent  towns 
alone,  and  of  a far  greater  number  throughout  the  country  at- 
large.  Similarly  in  the  populous  Central  American  States, 
sufficiently  civilized  to  have  a developed  system  of  calcula- 
tion, a regular  calendar,  books,  maps,  &c.,  there  were  exten- 
sive sacrifices  of  prisoners,  slaves,  children,  whose  hearts 
were  torn  out  and  offered  palpitating  on  altars,  and  who,  in 
other  cases,  were  flayed  alive  and  their  skins  used  as  dancing- 
dresses  by  the  priests. 

Nor  need  we  seek  in  remote  regions  or  among  alien  races, 
for  proofs  that  there  does  not  exist  a necessary  connexion 
between  the  social  types  classed  as  civilized  and  those 
higher  sentiments  which  we  commonly  associate  with  civili- 
zation. The  mutilations  of  prisoners  exhibited  on  Assyrian 
sculptures  are  not  surpassed  in  cruelty  by  any  we  find  among 
the  most  bloodthirsty  of  wild  races ; and  Eameses  II.,  who 
delighted  in  having  himself  sculptured  on  temple-walls 
throughout  Egypt  as  holding  a dozen  captives  by  the  hair, 
and  striking  off*  their  heads  at  a blow,  slaughtered  during  his 
conquests  more  human  beings  than  a thousand  chiefs  of 
savage  tribes  put  together.  The  tortures  inflicted  on  cap- 
tured enemies  by  Eed  Indians  are  not  greater  than  were 
those  inflicted  of  old  on  felons  by  crucifixion,  or  on  suspected 
rebels  by  sewing  them  up  in  the  hides  of  slaughtered  animals, 
or  on  heretics  by  smearing  them  over  with  combustibles  and 
setting  fire  to  them.  The  Damaras,  described  as  so  heartless 
that  they  laugh  on  seeing  one  of  their  number  killed  by  a 
wild  beast,  are  not  worse  than  were  the  Eomans,  who  gratified 


238 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


themselves  by  watching  wholesale  slaughters  in  their  arenas. 
If  the  numbers  destroyed  by  the  hordes  of  Attila  were  not 
equalled  by  the  numbers  which  the  Roman  armies  destroyed 
at  the  conquest  of  Selucia,  and  by  the  numbers  of  the  Jews 
massacred  under  Hadrian,  it  was  simply  because  the  occa- 
sions did  not  permit.  The  cruelties  of  Hero,  Gallienus,  and 
the  rest,  may  compare  with  those  of  Zingis  and  Timour ; and 
when  we  read  of  Caracalla,  that  after  he  had  murdered 
twenty  thousand  friends  of  his  murdered  brother,  his  soldiers 
forced  the  Senate  to  place  him  among  the  gods,  we  are  shown 
that  in  the  Roman  people  there  was  a ferocity  not  less  than 
that  which  deifies  the  most  sanguinary  chiefs  among  the  worst 
of  savages.  Nor  did  Christianity  greatly  change  matters. 
Throughout  Mediaeval  Europe,  political  offences  and  religious 
dissent  brought  on  men  carefully-devised  agonies  equalling  if 
not  exceeding  any  inflicted  by  the  most  brutal  of  barbarians. 

Startling  as  the  truth  seems,  it  is  yet  a truth  to  be  recog- 
nized, that  increase  of  humanity  does  not  go  on  pari  passu 
with  civilization ; but  that,  contrariwise,  the  earlier  stages  of 
civilization  necessitate  a relative  inhumanity.  Among  tribes 
of  primitive  men,  it  is  the  more  brutal  rather  than  the  more 
kindly  who  succeed  in  those  conquests  which  effect  the  earliest 
social  consolidations ; and  through  many  subsequent  stages 
unscrupulous  aggression  outside  of  the  society  and  cruel 
coercion  within,  are  the  habitual  concomitants  of  political 
development.  The  men  of  whom  the  better  organized  societies 
have  been  formed,  were  at  first,  and  long  continued  to  be, 
nothing  else  but  the  stronger  and  more  cunning  savages ; and 
even  now,  when  freed  from  those  influences  which  super- 
ficially modify  their  behaviour,  they  prove  themselves  to  be 
little  better.  If,  on  the  one  hand,  we  contemplate  the  utterly 
uncivilized  Wood-Veddahs,  who  are  described  as  “ proverbially 
truthful  and  honest,”  “ gentle  and  affectionate,”  “ obeying  the 
slightest  intimation  of  a wish,  and  very  grateful  for  attention 
or  assistance,”  and  of  whom  Pridham  remarks — “ What  a 
lesson  in  gratitude  and  delicacy  even  a Yeddah  may  teach  !” 


PRELIMINARY. 


239 


and  then  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  contemplate  our  own 
recent  acts  of  international  brigandage,  accompanied  by  the 
slaughter  of  thousands  who  have  committed  no  wrong  against 
us — accompanied,  too,  by  perfidious  breaches  of  faith  and  the 
killing  of  prisoners  in  cold  blood ; we  must  admit  that  be- 
tween the  types  of  men  classed  as  uncivilized  and  civilized, 
the  differences  are  not  necessarily  of  the  kinds  commonly 
supposed.  Whatever  relation  exists  between  moral  nature 
and  social  type,  is  not  such  as  to  imply  that  the  social  man  is 
in  all  respects  emotionally  superior  to  the  pre-social  man.* 

§ 438.  “ How  is  this  conclusion  to  be  reconciled  with  the 
conception  of  progress  ? ” most  readers  will  ask.  “ How  is 
civilization  to  be  justified  if,  as  is  thus  implied,  some  of  the 
highest  of  human  attributes  are  exhibited  in  greater  degrees 
by  wild  people  who  live  scattered  in  pairs  in  the  woods,  than 
by  the  members  of  a vast,  well-organized  nation,  having 

* What  the  social  man,  even  of  advanced  race,  is  capable  of,  has  been 
again  shown  while  these  lines  are  standing  in  type.  To  justify  the  destruc- 
tion of  two  African  towns  in  Batanga,  we  are  told  that  their  king,  wishing  to 
have  a trading  factory  established,  and  disappointed  with  the  promise  of  a 
sub-factory,  boarded  an  English  schooner,  carried  off  Mr.  Govier,  the  mate, 
and  refusing  to  release  him  when  asked,  “threatened  to  cut  the  man’s  head 
off”  : a strange  mode,  if  true,  of  getting  a trading  factory  established. 
Mr.  Govier  afterwards  escaped  ; not  having  been  ill-treated  during  his  deten- 
tion. Anchoring  the  JBoadicea  and  two  gunboats  off  Kribby’s  Town  (“Xing 
Jack’s”  residence),  Commodore  Richards  demanded  of  the  king  that  he 
should  come  on  board  and  explain : promising  him  safety,  and  threatening 
serious  consequences  in  case  of  refusal.  Not  trusting  the  promise,  the  king 
failed  to  come.  Without  ascertaining  from  the  natives  whether  they  had 
any  reason  for  laying  hands  on  Mr.  Govier,  save  this  most  improbable  one 
alleged  by  our  people,  Commodore  Richards  proceeded,  after  some  hours’ 
notice,  to  clear  the  beach  with  shells,  to  burn  the  town  of  300  houses,  to  cut 
down  the  natives’  crops,  and  to  destroy  their  canoes  ; and  then,  not  satisfied 
with  burning  “King  Jack’s”  town,  went  further  south  and  burnt  “King 
Long-Long’s”  town.  These  facts  are  published  in  the  Times  of  September 
10,  1880.  In  an  article  on  them,  this  organ  of  English  respectability  regrets 
that  “ the  punishment  must  seem,  to  the  childish  mind  of  the  savage,  wholly 
disproportionate  to  the  offence:”  implying  that  to  the  adult  mind  of  the 
civilized  it  will  not  seem  disproportionate.  Further,  this  leading  journal  of 
ruling  classes  who  hold  that,  in  the  absence  of  established  theological  dogmas, 


240 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


marvellously-elaborated  arts,  extensive  and  profound  know- 
ledge, and  multitudinous  appliances  to  welfare  ? ” The 
answer  to  this  question  will  best  be  conveyed  by  an 
analogy. 

As  carried  on  throughout  the  animate  world  at  large,  the 
struggle  for  existence  has  been  an  indispensable  means  to 
evolution.  Not  simply  do  we  see  that  in  the  competition 
among  individuals  of  the  same  kind,  survival  of  the  fittest, 
has  from  the  beginning  furthered  production  of  a higher  type  ; 
but  we  see  that  to  the  unceasing  warfare  between  species  is 
mainly  due  both  growth  and  organization.  Without  univer- 
sal conflict  there  would  have  been  no  development  of  the 
active  powers.  The  organs  of  perception  and  of  locomotion 
have  been  little  by  little  evolved  during  the  inter-action  of 
pursuers  and  pursued.  Improved  limbs  and  senses  have 
furnished  better  supplies  to  the  viscera,  and  improved  visceral 
structures  have  ensured  a better  supply  of  aerated  blood  to 
the  limbs  and  senses ; while  a higher  nervous  system  has  at 
each  stage  been  called  into  play  for  co-ordinating  the  actions 
of  these  more  complex  structures.  Among  predatory  animals 
death  by  starvation,  and  among  animals  preyed  upon  death 
by  destruction,  have  carried  off  the  least-favourably  modified 
individuals  and  varieties.  Every  advance  in  strength,  speed, 
agility,  or  sagacity,  in  creatures  of  the  one  class,  has  necessi- 
tated a corresponding  advance  in  creatures  of  the  other  class  ; 
and  without  never-ending  efforts  to  catch  and  to  escape,  with 
loss  of  life  as  the  penalty  for  failure,  the  progress  of  neither 
could  have  been  achieved. 

there  would  be  no  distinction  between  right  and  wrong,  remarks  that  “ if  it 
were  not  for  the  dark  shadow  cast  over  it  by  this  loss  of  life”  [of  two  of  our 
men],  “ the  whole  episode  would  be  somewhat  humorous.”  Doubtless,  after 
the  “ childish  mind  of  the  savage  ” has  accepted  the  “glad  tidings”  brought 
by  missionaries  of  “ the  religion  of  love,”  there  is  humour,  somewhat  of  the 
grimmest,  perhaps,  in  showing  him  the  practice  of  this  religion  by  burning 
his  house.  Comments  on  Christian  virtues,  uttered  by  exploding  shells,  may 
fitly  be  accompanied  by  a Mephistophelian  smile.  Possibly  the  king,  in  declin- 
ing to  trust  himself  on  board  an  English  ship,  was  swayed  by  the  common 
Negro  belief  that  the  devil  is  while. 


PRELIMINARY. 


241 


Mark  now,  however,  that  while  this  merciless  discipline  of 
Nature,  “red  in  tooth  and  claw”  has  been  essential  to 
the  progress  of  sentient  life,  its  persistence  through  all 
time  with  all  creatures  must  not  he  inferred.  The  high 
organization  evolved  by  and  for  this  universal  conflict,  is  not 
necessarily  for  ever  employed  to  like  ends.  The  resulting- 
power  and  intelligence  admit  of  being  far  otherwise  employed. 
Not  for  offence  and  defence  only  are  the  inherited  structures 
useful,  but  for  various  other  purposes;  and  these  various 
other  purposes  may  finally  become  the  exclusive  purposes. 
The  myriads  of  years  of  warfare  which  have  developed  the 
powers  of  all  lower  types  of  creatures,  have  bequeathed  to 
the  highest  type  of  creature  the  powers  now  used  by  him  for 
countless  objects  besides  those  of  killing  and  avoiding  being 
killed.  His  limbs,  teeth  and  nails  are  but  little  employed  in 
fight;  and  his  mind  is  not  ordinarily  occupied  in  devising 
ways  of  destroying  other  creatures,  or  guarding  himself  from 
injury  by  them. 

Similarly  with  social  organisms.  We  must  recognize  the 
truth  that  the  struggles  for  existence  between  societies  have 
been  instrumental  to  their  evolution.  Neither  the  consolida- 
tion and  re-consolidation  of  small  groups  into  large  ones ; nor 
the  organization  of  such  compound  and  doubly  compound 
groups ; nor  the  concomitant  developments  of  those  aids  to 
a higher  life  which  civilization  has  brought;  would  have 
been  possible  without  inter-tribal  and  inter-national  con- 
flicts. Social  cooperation  is  initiated  by  joint  defence  and 
offence ; and  from  the  cooperation  thus  initiated,  all  kinds  of 
cooperations  have  arisen.  Inconceivable  as  have  been  the 
horrors  caused  by  this  universal  antagonism  which,  beginning 
with  the  chronic  hostilities  of  small  hordes  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  years  ago,  has  ended  in  the  occasional  vast  battles  of 
immense  nations,  we  must  nevertheless  admit  that  with- 
out it  the  world  would  still  have  been  inhabited  only  by 
men  of  feeble  types,  sheltering  in  caves  and  living  on  wild 
food. 


242 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


But  now  observe  that  the  inter-social  struggle  for  exist- 
ence which  has  been  indispensable  in  evolving  societies,  will 
not  necessarily  play  in  the  future  a part  like  that  which  it  has 
played  in  the  past.  Recognizing  our  indebtedness  to  war  for 
forming  great  communities  and  developing  their  structures, 
we  may  yet  infer  that  the  acquired  powers,  available  for  other 
activities,  will  lose  their  original  activities.  While  conceding 
that  without  these  perpetual  bloody  strifes,  civilized  societies 
could  not  have  arisen,  and  that  an  adapted  form  of  human 
nature,  fierce  as  well  as  intelligent,  was  a needful  concomitant ; 
we  may  at  the  same  time  hold  that  such  societies  having  been 
produced,  the  brutality  of  nature  in  their  units  which  was 
necessitated  by  the  process,  ceasing  to  be  necessary  with  the 
cessation  of  the  process,  will  disappear.  While  the  benefits 
achieved  during  the  predatory  period  remain  a permanent 
inheritance,  the  evils  entailed  by  it  will  decrease  and  slowly 
die  out. 

Thus,  then,  contemplating  social  structures  and  actions 
from  the  evolution  point  of  view,  we  may  preserve  that 
calmness  which  is  needful  for  scientific  interpretation  of  them, 
without  losing  our  powers  of  feeling  moral  reprobation  or 
approbation. 

§ 439.  To  these  preliminary  remarks  respecting  the  mental 
attitude  to  be  preserved  by  the  student  of  political  institu- 
tions, a few  briefer  ones  must  be  added  respecting  the  subject- 
matters  he  has  to  deal  with. 

If  societies  were  all  of  the  same  species  and  differed  only 
in  their  stages  of  growth  and  structure,  comparisons  would 
disclose  clearly  the  course  of  evolution ; but  unlikenesses 
of  type  among  them,  here  great  and  there  small,  obscure  the 
results  of  such  comparisons. 

Again,  if  each  society  grew  and  unfolded  itself  without  the 
intrusion  of  additional  factors,  interpretation  would  be  rela- 
tively easy;  but  the  complicated  processes  of  development 
are  frequently  re-complicated  by  changes  in  the  gets  of 


PRELIMINARY. 


243 


factors.  Now  the  size  of  the  social  aggregate  is  all  at  once 
increased  or  decreased  by  annexation  or  by  loss  of  territory ; 
and  now  the  average  character  of  its  units  is  altered  by  the 
coming  in  of  another  race  as  conquerors  or  as  slaves  ; while, 
as  a further  effect  of  this  event,  new  social  relations  are 
superposed  on  the  old.  In  many  cases  the  repeated  over- 
runnings of  societies  by  one  another,  the  minglings  of  peoples 
and  institutions,  the  breakings  up  and  re-aggregations,  so 
destroy  the  continuity  of  normal  processes  as  to  make  it 
extremely  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  draw  conclu- 
sions. 

Once  more,  modifications  in  the  average  mode  of  life 
pursued  by  a society,  now  increasingly  warlike  and  now 
increasingly  industrial,  initiate  metamorphoses : changed 
activities  generate  changes  of  structures.  Consequently  there 
have  to  be  distinguished  those  progressive  re-arrangements 
caused  by  the  further  development  of  one  social  type,  from 
those  caused  by  the  commencing  development  of  another 
social  type.  The  lines  of  an  organization  adapted  to  a mode 
of  activity  which  has  ceased,  or  has  been  long  suspended,  begin 
to  fade,  and  are  traversed  by  the  increasingly-definite  lines  of 
an  organization  adapted  to  the  mode  of  activity  which  has 
replaced  it;  and  error  may  result  from  mistaking  traits 
belonging  to  the  one  for  those  belonging  to  the  other. 

Hence  we  may  infer  that  out  of  the  complex  and  confused 
evidence,  only  the  larger  truths  will  emerge  with  clearness. 
While  anticipating  that  certain  general  conclusions  are  to  be 
positively  established,  we  may  anticipate  that  more  special 
ones  can  be  alleged  only  as  probable. 

Happily,  however,  as  we  shall  eventually  see,  those  general 
conclusions  admitting  of  positive  establishment,  are  the  con- 
clusions of  most  value  for  guidance. 


2 


CHAPTER  II. 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 

§ 440.  The  mere  gathering  of  individuals  into  a group  does 
not  constitute  them  a society.  A society,  in  the  sociological 
sense,  is  formed  only  when,  besides  juxtaposition  there  is  co- 
operation. So  long  as  members  of  the  group  do  not  combine 
their  energies  to  achieve  some  common  end  or  ends,  there  is 
little  to  keep  them  together.  They  are  prevented  from  sepa- 
rating only  when  the  wants  of  each  are  better  satisfied  by 
uniting  his  efforts  with  those  of  others,  than  they  would  be 
if  he  acted  alone. 

Cooperation,  then,  is  at  once  that  which  cannot  exist 
without  a society,  and  that  for  which  a society  exists.  It 
may  be  a joining  of  many  strengths  to  effect  something  which 
the  strength  of  no  single  man  can  effect ; or  it  may  be  an 
apportioning  of  different  activities  to  different  persons,  who 
severally  participate  in  the  benefits  of  one  another’s  activities. 
The  motive  for  acting  together,  originally  the  dominant  one, 
may  be  defence  against  enemies ; or  it  may  be  the  easier  ob- 
tainment  of  food,  by  the  chase  or  otherwise ; or  it  may  be, 
and  commonly  is,  both  of  these.  In  any  case,  however,  the 
units  pass  from  the  state  of  perfect  independence  to  the  state 
of  mutual  dependence ; and  as  fast  as  they  do  this  they 
become  united  into  a society  rightly  so  called. 

But  cooperation  implies  organization.  If  acts  are  to  be 
effectually  combined,  there  must  be  arrangements  under  which 
they  are  adjusted  in  their  times,  amounts,  and  characters. 

§ 441.  This  social  organization,  necessary  as  a means  to 
concerted  action,  is  of  two  kinds.  Though  these  two  kinds 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


245 


generally  co-exist,  and  are  more  or  less  interfused,  yet  they 
are  distinct  in  their  origins  and  natures.  There  is  a spon- 
taneous cooperation  which  grows  up  without  thought  during 
the  pursuit  of  private  ends ; and  there  is  a cooperation  which, 
consciously  devised,  implies  distinct  recognition  of  public 
ends.  The  ways  in  which  the  two  are  respectively  established 
and  carried  on,  present  marked  contrasts. 

Whenever,  in  a primitive  group,  there  begins  that  coopera- 
tion which  is  effected  by  exchange  of  services — whenever 
individuals  find  their  wants  better  satisfied  by  giving  certain 
products  which  they  can  make  best,  in  return  for  other  pro- 
ducts they  are  less  skilled  in  making,  or  not  so  well  circum- 
stanced for  making,  there  is  initiated  a kind  of  organization 
which  then,  and  throughout  its  higher  stages,  results  from 
endeavours  to  meet  personal  needs.  Division  of  labour, 
to  the  last  as  at  first,  grows  by  experience  of  mutual  facilita,- 
tions  in  living.  Each  new  specialization  of  industry  arises 
from  the  effort  of  one  who  commences  it  to  get  profit ; and 
establishes  itself  by  conducing  in  some  way  to  the  profit  of 
others.  So  that  there  is  a kind  of  concerted  action,  with  an 
elaborate  social  organization  developed  by  it,  which  does  not 
originate  in  deliberate  concert.  Though  within  the  small  sub- 
divisions of  this  organization,  we  find  everywhere  repeated 
the  relation  of  employer  and  employed,  of  whom  the  one 
directs  the  actions  of  the  other;  yet  this  relation,  sponta- 
neously formed  in  aid  of  private  ends  and  continued  only  at 
will,  is  not  formed  with  conscious  reference  to  achievement  of 
public  ends : these  are  not  thought  of.  And  though,  for 
regulating  trading  activities,  there  arise  agencies  serving  to 
adjust  the  supplies  of  commodities  to  the  demands ; yet  such 
agencies  do  this  not  by  direct  stimulations  or  restraints,  but 
by  communicating  information  which  serves  to  stimulate  or 
restrain;  and,  further,  these  agencies  grow  up  not  for  the 
avowed  purpose  of  thus  regulating,  but  in  the  pursuit  of  gain 
by  individuals.  So  unintentionally  has  there  arisen  the 
elaborate  division  of  labour  by  which  production  and  distri- 


246 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


bution  are  now  carried  on,  that  only  in  modern  days  has 
there  come  a recognition  of  the  fact  that  it  has  all  along  been 
arising. 

On  the  other  hand,  cooperation  for  a purpose  immediately 
concerning  the  whole  society,  is  a conscious  cooperation ; and 
is  carried  on  by  an  organization  of  another  kind,  formed  in  a 
different  way.  When  the  primitive  group  has  to  defend 
itself  against  other  groups,  its  members  act  together  under 
further  stimuli  than  those  constituted  by  purely  personal 
desires.  Even  at  the  outset,  before  any  control  by  a chief 
exists,  there  is  the  control  exercised  by  the  group  over  its 
members ; each  of  whom  is  obliged,  by  public  opinion,  to  join 
in  the  general  defence.  Very  soon  the  warrior  of  recognized 
superiority  begins  to  exercise  over  each,  during  war,  an  in- 
fluence additional  to  that  exercised  by  the  group ; and  when 
his  authority  becomes  established,  it  greatly  furthers  com- 
bined action.  From  the  beginning,  therefore,  this  kind  of 
social  cooperation  is  a conscious  cooperation,  and  a coopera- 
tion which  is  not  wholly  a matter  of  choice — is  often  at 
variance  with  private  wishes.  As  the  organization  initiated 
by  it  develops,  we  see  that,  in  the  first  place,  the  fighting 
division  of  the  society  displays  in  the  highest  degree  these 
same  traits : the  grades  and  divisions  constituting  an  army, 
cooperate  more  and  more  under  the  regulation,  consciously 
established,  of  agencies  which  override  individual  volitions — 
or,  to  speak  strictly,  control  individuals  by  motives  which 
prevent  them  from  acting  as  they  would  spontaneously  act. 
In  the  second  place,  we  see  that  throughout  the  society  as  a 
whole  there  spreads  a kindred  form  of  organization — kindred 
in  so  far  that,  for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  the  militant 
body  and  the  government  which  directs  it,  there  are  esta- 
blished over  citizens,  agencies  which  force  them  to  labour 
more  or  less  largely  for  public  ends  instead  of  private  ends. 
And,  simultaneously,  there  develops  a further  organization, 
still  akin  in  its  fundamental  principle,  which  restrains  indi- 
vidual actions  in  such  wise  that  social  safety  shall  not  be 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


247 


endangered  by  the  disorder  consequent  on  unchecked  pursuit 
of  personal  ends.  So  that  this  kind  of  social  organization  is 
distinguished  from  the  other,  as  arising  through  conscious 
pursuit  of  public  ends;  in  furtherance  of  which  individual 
wills  are  constrained,  first  by  the  joint  wills  of  the  entire 
group,  and  afterwards  more  definitely  by  the  will  of  a regu- 
lative agency  which  the  group  evolves. 

Most  clearly  shall  we  perceive  the  contrast  between  these 
two  kinds  of  organization  on  observing  that,  while  they  are 
both  instrumental  to  social  welfare,  they  are  instrumental  in 
converse  ways.  That  organization  shown  us  by  the  division 
of  labour  for  industrial  purposes,  exhibits  combined  action ; 
but  it  is  a combined  action  which  directly  seeks  and  subserves 
the  welfares  of  individuals,  and  indirectly  subserves  the 
welfare  of  society  as  a whole  by  preserving  individuals. 
Conversely,  that  organization  evolved  for  governmental  and 
defensive  purposes,  exhibits  combined  action ; but  it  is  a com- 
bined action  which  directly  seeks  and  subserves  the  welfare 
of  the  society  as  a whole,  and  indirectly  subserves  the  wel- 
fares of  individuals  by  protecting  the  society.  Efforts  for 
self-preservation  by  the  units  originate  the  one  form  of 
organization ; while  efforts  for  self-preservation  by  the  aggre- 
gate originate  the  other  form  of  organization.  In  the  first 
case  there  is  conscious  pursuit  of  private  ends  only ; and  the 
correlative  organization  resulting  from  this  pursuit  of  private 
ends,  growing  up  unconsciously,  is  without  coercive  power. 
In  the  second  case  there  is  conscious  pursuit  of  public  ends ; 
and  the  correlative  organization,  consciously  established, 
exercises  coercion. 

Of  these  two  kinds  of  cooperation  and  the  structures 
effecting  them,  we  are  here  concerned  only  with  one.  Poli- 
tical organization  is  to  be  understood  as  that  part  of  social 
organization  which  consciously  carries  on  directive  and  re- 
straining functions  for  public  ends.  It  is  true,  as  already 
hinted,  and  as  we  shall  see  presently,  that  the  two  kinds  are 
mingled  in  various  ways — that  each  ramifies  through  the 


248 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


other  more  or  less  according  to  their  respective  degrees  of 
predominance.  But  they  are  essentially  different  in  origin 
and  nature ; and  for  the  present  we  must,  so  far  as  may  be, 
limit  our  attention  to  the  last. 

§ 442.  That  the  cooperation  into  which  men  have  gradually 
risen  secures  to  them  benefits  which  could  not  be  secured 
while,  in  their  primitive  state,  they  acted  singly;  and  that, 
as  an  indispensable  means  to  this  cooperation,  political 
organization  has  been,  and  is,  advantageous ; we  shall  see  on 
contrasting  the  states  of  men  who  are  not  politically  organized, 
with  the  states  of  men  who  are  politically  organized  in  less 
or  greater  degrees. 

There  are,  indeed,  conditions  under  which  as  good  an  indi- 
vidual life  is  possible  without  political  organization  as  with 
it.  Where,  as  in  the  habitat  of  the  Esquimaux,  there  are  but 
few  persons  and  these  widely  scattered ; where  there  is  no 
war,  probably  because  the  physical  impediments  to  it  are 
great  and  the  motives  to  it  feeble ; and  where  circumstances 
make  the  occupations  so  uniform  that  there  is  little  scope  for 
division  of  labour;  mutual  dependence  can  have  no  place,  and 
the  arrangements  which  effect  it  are  not  needed.  Becog- 
nizing  this  exceptional  case,  let  us  consider  the  cases  which 
are  not  exceptional. 

The  Digger  Indians,  “ very  few  degrees  removed  from  the 
ourang-outang,”  who,  scattered  among  the  mountains  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  sheltering  in  holes  and  living  on  roots  and 
vermin,  “ drag  out  a miserable  existence  in  a state  of  nature, 
amid  the  most  loathsome  and  disgusting  squalor/'  differ  from 
the  other  divisions  of  the  Shoshones  by  their  entire  lack  of 
social  organization.  The  river-haunting  and  plain-haunting 
divisions  of  the  race,  under  some,  though  but  slight,  govern- 
mental control,  lead  more  satisfactory  lives.  In  South 
America  the  Chaco  Indians,  low  in  type  as  are  the  Diggers, 
and  like  them  degraded  and  wretched  in  their  lives,  are  simi- 
larly contrasted  with  the  superior  and  more  comfortable 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


249 


savages  around  them  in  being  dissociated.  Among  the 
Bedouin  tribes,  the  Sherarat  are  unlike  the  rest  in  being  divided 
and  sub-divided  into  countless  bands  which  have  no  common 
chief ; and  they  are  described  as  being  the  most  miserable  of 
the  Bedouins.  More  decided  still  is  the  contrast  noted  by 
Baker  between  certain  adjacent  African  peoples.  Passing 
suddenly,  he  says,  from  the  unclothed,  ungoverned  tribes — 
from  the  “ wildest  savagedom  to  semi-civilisation  ” — we  come, 
in  Unyoro,  to  a country  ruled  by  “an  unflinching  despot,” 
inflicting  “ death  or  torture  ” for  “ the  most  trivial  offences 
but  where  they  have  developed  administration,  sub-governors, 
taxes,  good  clothing,  arts,  agriculture,,  architecture.  So,  too, 
concerning  New  Zealand  when  first  discovered,  Cook  re- 
marked that  there  seemed  to  be  greater  prosperity  and  popu- 
lousness in  the  regions  subject  to  a king. 

These  last  cases  introduce  us  to  a further  truth.  Not  only 
does  that  first  step  in  political  organization  which  places 
individuals  under  the  control  of  a tribal  chief,  bring  the  ad- 
vantages gained  by  better  cooperation ; but  such  advantages 
are  increased  when  minor  political  heads  become  subject  to 
a major  political  head.  As  typifying  the  evils  which  are 
thereby  avoided,  I may  name  the  fact  that  among  the  Beloo- 
chees,  whose  tribes,  unsubordinated  to  a general  ruler,  are 
constantly  at  war  with  one  another,  it  is  the  habit  to  erect  a 
small  mud  tower  in  each  field,  where  the  possessor  and  his 
retainers  guard  his  produce : a state  of  things  allied  to,  but 
worse  than,  that  of  the  Highland  clans,  with  their  strongholds 
for  sheltering  women  and  cattle  from  the  inroads  of  their 
neighbours,  in  days  when  they  were  not  under  the  control  of 
a central  power.  The  benefits  derived  from  such  wider  con- 
trol, whether  of  a simple  head  or  of  a compound  head,  were 
felt  by  the  early  Greeks  when  an  Amphictyonic  council  es- 
tablished the  laws  that  “ no  Hellenic  tribe  is  to  lay  the  habi- 
tations of  another  level  with  the  ground ; and  from  no 
Hellenic  city  is  the  water  to  be  cut  off  during  a siege.”  How 
that  advance  of  political  structure  which  unites  smaller  com- 


250 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


munities  into  larger  ones  furthers  welfare,  was  shown  in  our 
own  country  when,  by  the  Roman  conquest,  the  incessant 
fights  between  tribes  were  stopped ; and  again,  in  later  days, 
when  feudal  nobles,  becoming  subject  to  a monarch,  were  de- 
barred from  private  wars.  Under  its  converse  aspect  the 
same  truth  was  illustrated  when,  amidst  the  anarchy  which 
followed  the  collapse  of  the  Carolingian  empire,  dukes  and 
counts,  resuming  their  independence,  became  active  enemies 
to  one  another : their  state  being  such  that  " when  they  were 
not  at  war  they  lived  by  open  plunder.”  And  the  history  of 
Europe  has  repeatedly,  in  many  places  and  times,  furnished 
kindred  illustrations. 

While  political  organization,  as  it  extends  itself  throughout 
masses  of  increasing  size,  directly  furthers  welfare  by  re- 
moving that  impediment  to  cooperation  which  the  antago- 
nisms of  individuals  and  of  tribes  cause,  it  indirectly  furthers 
it  in  another  way.  Nothing  beyond  a rudimentary  division 
of  labour  can  arise  in  a small  social  group.  Before  commo- 
dities can  be  multiplied  in  their  kinds,  there  must  be  multi- 
plied kinds  of  producers ; and  before  each  commodity  can  be 
produced  in  the  most  economical  way,  the  different  stages 
in  the  production  of  it  must  be  apportioned  among  special 
hands.  Nor  is  this  all.  Neither  the  required  complex  com- 
binations of  individuals,  nor  the  elaborate  mechanical  appli- 
ances which  facilitate  manufacture,  can  arise  in  the  absence 
of  a large  community,  generating  a great  demand. 

§ 443.  But  though  the  advantages  gained  by  cooperation 
presuppose  political  organization,  this  political  organization 
necessitates  disadvantages ; and  it  is  quite  possible  for  these 
disadvantages  to  outweigh  the  advantages.  The  controlling 
structures  have  to  be  maintained ; the  restraints  they  impose 
have  to  be  borne ; and  the  evils  inflicted  by  taxation  and  by 
tyranfjy  may  become  greater  than  the  evils  prevented. 

Where,  as  in  the  East,  the  rapacity  of  monarchs  has  some- 
times gone  to  the  extent  of  taking  from  cultivators  so  much 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


251 


of  their  produce  as  to  have  afterwards  to  return  part  for 
seed,  we  see  exemplified  the  truth  that  the  agency  which 
maintains  order  may  cause  miseries  greater  than  the  miseries 
caused  by  disorder.  The  state  of  Egypt  under  the 

Eomans,  who,  on  the  native  set  of  officials  superposed  their 
own  set,  and  who  made  drafts  on  the  country's  resources  not 
for  local  administration  only  but  also  for  imperial  administra- 
tion, furnishes  an  instance.  Beyond  the  regular  taxes  there 
were  demands  for  feeding  and  clothing  the  military,  wherever 
quartered.  Extra  calls  were  continually  made  on  the  people 
for  maintaining  public  works  and  subaltern  agents.  Men  in 
office  were  themselves  so  impoverished  by  exactions  that 
they  “ assumed  dishonourable  employments  or  became  the 
slaves, of  persons  in  power.”  Gifts  made  to  the  government 
were  soon  converted  into  forced  contributions.  And  those  who 
purchased  immunities  from  extortions  found  them  disregarded 
as  soon  as  the  sums  asked  had  been  received.  More 

terrible  still  were  the  curses  following  excessive  development 
of  political  organization  in  Gaul,  during  the  decline  of  the 
Homan  empire  : — 

“ So  numerous  were  the  receivers  in  comparison  with  the  payers,  and 
so  enormous  the  weight  of  taxation,  that  the  labourer  broke  down, 
the  plains  became  deserts,  and  woods  grew  where  the  plough  had 

been It  were  impossible  to  number  the  officials  who  were  rained 

upon  every  province  and  town The  crack  of  the  lash  and  the  cry 

of  the  tortured  filled  the  air.  The  faithful  slave  was  tortured  for  evi- 
dence against  his  master,  the  wife  to  depose  against  her  husband,  the 
son  against  his  sire.  ....  Not  satisfied  with  the  returns  of  the  first 
enumerators,  they  sent  a succession  of  others,  who  each  swelled  the 
valuation — as  a proof  of  service  done  ; and  so  the  imposts  went  on  in- 
creasing. Yet  the  number  of  cattle  fell  off,  and  the  people  died. 
Nevertheless,  the  survivors  had  to  pay  the  taxes  of  the  dead.” 

And  how  literally  in  this  case  the  benefits  were  exceeded  by 
the  mischiefs,  is  shown  by  the  contemporary  statement  that 
“ they  fear  the  enemy  less  than  the  tax-gatherer : the  truth 
is,  that  they  fly  to  the  first  to  avoid  the  last.  Hence  the  one 
unanimous  wish  of  the  Boman  populace,  that  it  was  their  lot  to 
live  with  the  barbarian.”  In  the  same  region  during 


252 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


later  times  the  lesson  was  repeated.  While  internal  peace  and 
'its  blessings  were  achieved  in  mediaeval  France  as  fast  as  feudal 
nobles  became  subordinate  to  the  king — while  the  central 
power,  as  it  grew  stronger,  put  an  end  to  that  primitive  prac- 
tice of  a blood-revenge  which  wreaked  itself  on  any  relative 
of  an  offender,  and  made  the  “ truce  of  God  ” a needful  miti- 
gation of  the  universal  savagery ; yet  from  this  extension  of 
political  organization  there  presently  grew  up  evils  as  great 
or  greater — multiplication  of  taxes,  forced  loans,  groundless 
confiscations,  arbitrary  fines,  progressive  debasements  of 
coinage,  and  a universal  corruption  of  justice  consequent  on 
the  sale  of  offices : the  results  being  that  many  people  died 
by  famine,  some  committed  suicide,  while  others,  deserting 
their  homes,  led  a wandering  life.  And  then,  afterwards, 
when  the  supreme  ruler,  becoming  absolute,  controlled  social 
action  in  all  its  details,  through  an  administrative  system  vast 
in  extent  and  ramifications,  with  the  general  result  that  in 
less  than  two  centuries  the  indirect  taxation  alone  “ crossed 
the  enormous  interval  between  11  millions  and  311,”  there 
came  the  national  impoverishment  and  misery  which  resulted 
in  the  great  revolution.  Even  the  present  day  sup- 

plies kindred  evidence  from  sundry  places.  A voyage  up  the 
Nile  shows  every  observer  that  the  people  are  better  off 
where  they  are  remote  from  the  centre  of  government — that 
is,  where  administrative  agencies  cannot  so  easily  reach  them. 
Nor  is  it  only  under  the  barbaric  Turk  that  this  happens. 
Notwithstanding  the  boasted  beneficence  of  our  rule  in  India, 
the  extra  burdens  and  restraints  it  involves,  have  the  effect 
that  the  people  find  adjacent  countries  preferable:  the  ryots 
in  some  parts  have  been  leaving  their  homes  and  settling  in 
the  territory  of  the  Nizam  and  in  Gwalior. 

Not  only  do  those  who  are  controlled  suffer  from  political 
organization  evils  which  greatly  deduct  from,  and  sometimes 
exceed,  the  benefits.  Numerous  and  rigid  governmental 
restraints  shackle  those  who  impose  them,  as  well  as  those  on 
whom  they  are  imposed.  The  successive  grades  of  ruling 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


253 


agents,  severally  coercing  grades  below,  are  themselves 
coerced  by  grades  above  ; and  even  the  highest  ruling  agent 
is  enslaved  by  the  system  created  for  the  preservation  of  his 
supremacy.  In  ancient  Egypt  the  daily  life  of  the  king  was 
minutely  regulated  alike  as  to  its  hours,  its  occupations,  its 
ceremonies  ; so  that,  nominally  all  powerful,  he  was  really  less 
free  than  a subject.  It  has  been,  and  is,  the  same  with  other 
despotic  monarchs.  Till  lately  in  Japan,  where  the  form  of 
organization  had  become  fixed,  and  where,  from  the  highest 
to  the  lowest,  the  actions  of  life  were  prescribed  in  detail,  the 
exercise  of  authority  was  so  burdensome  that  voluntary  re- 
signation of  it  was  frequent:  we  read  that  “the  custom 
of  abdication  is  common  among  all  classes,  from  the  Emperor 
down  to  his  meanest  subject.”  European  states  have  ex- 
emplified this  re-acting  tyranny.  “ In  the  Byzantine  palace,” 
says  Gibbon,  “ the  Emperor  was  the  first  slave  of  the  cere- 
monies he  imposed.”  Concerning  the  tedious  court  life  of 
Louis  XIV.,  Madame  de  Maintenon  remarks — “ Save  those 
only  who  fill  the  highest  stations,  I know  of  none  more  un- 
fortunate than  those  who  envy  them.  If  you  could  only 
form  an  idea  of  what  it  is  ! ” 

So  that  while  the  satisfaction  of  men’s  wants  is  furthered 
both  by  the  maintenance  of  order  and  by  the  formation  of 
aggregates  large  enough  to  permit  extensive  division  of  labour, 
it  is  hindered  both  by  great  deductions  from  the  products  of 
their  actions,  and  by  the  restraints  imposed  on  their  actions — 
usually  in  excess  of  the  needs.  And  political  control  in- 
directly entails  evils  on  those  who  exercise  it  as  well  as  on 
those  over  whom  it  is  exercised. 

§ 444.  The  stones  composing  a house  cannot  be  otherwise 
used  until  the  house  has  been  pulled  down.  If  the  stones 
are  united  by  mortar,  there  must  be  extra  trouble  in  destroy- 
ing their  present  combination  before  they  can  be  re-combined. 
And  if  the  mortar  has  had  centuries  in  which  to  consolidate, 
the  breaking  up  of  the  masses  formed  is  a matter  of  such 


254 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


difficulty,  that  building  with  new  materials  becomes  more 
economical  than  rebuilding  with  the  old. 

I name  these  facts  to  illustrate  the  truth  that  any  arrange- 
ment stands  in  the  way  of  re-arrangement;  and  that  this 
must  be  true  of  organization,  which  is  one  kind  of  arrange- 
ment. When,  during  the  evolution  of  a living  body,  its  com- 
ponent substance,  at  first  relatively  homogeneous,  has  been 
transformed  into  a combination  of  heterogeneous  parts,  there 
results  an  obstacle,  always  great  and  often  insuperable,  to 
any  considerable  further  change  : the  more  elaborate  and  defi- 
nite the  structure  the  greater  being  the  resistance  it  opposes 
to  alteration.  And  this,  which  is  conspicuously  true  of  an 
individual  organism,  is  true,  if  less  conspicuously,  of  a social 
organism.  Though  a society,  formed  of  discrete  units,  and 
not  having  had  its  type  fixed  by  inheritance  from  countless 
like  societies,  is  much  more  plastic,  yet  the  same  principle 
holds.  As  fast  as  its  parts  are  differentiated — as  fast  as  there 
arise  classes,  bodies  of  functionaries,  established  administra- 
tions, these,  becoming  coherent  within  themselves  and  with 
one  another,  struggle  against  such  forces  as  tend  to  modify 
them.  The  conservatism  of  every  long-settled  institution 
daily  exemplifies  this  law.  Ee  it  in  the  antagonism  of  a 
church  to  legislation  interfering  with  its  discipline ; be  it  in 
the  opposition  of  an  army  to  abolition  of  the  purchase- 
system  ; be  it  in  the  disfavour  with  which  the  legal  profes- 
sion at  large  has  regarded  law-reform ; we  see  that  neither  in 
their  structures  nor  in  their  modes  of  action,  are  parts  that 
have  once  been  specialized  easily  changed. 

As  it  is  true  of  a living  body  that  its  various  acts  have  as 
their  common  end  self-preservation,  so  is  it  true  of  its  com- 
ponent organs  that  they  severally  tend  to  preserve  them- 
selves in  their  integrity.  And,  similarly,  as  it  is  • true  of  a 
society  that  maintenance  of  its  existence  is  the  aim  of  its 
combined  actions,  so  it  is  true  of  its  separate  classes,  its  sets 
of  officials,  its  other  specialized  parts,  that  the  dominant  aim 
of  each  is  to  maintain  itself.  Not  the  function  to  be  per- 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


255 


formed,  but  the  sustentation  of  those  who  perform  the  func- 
tion, becomes  the  object  in  view  : the  result  being  that  when 
the  function  is  needless,  or  even  detrimental,  the  structure 
still  keeps  itself  intact  as  long  as  it  can.  In  early  days 
the  history  of  the  Knights  Templars  furnished  an  illustration 
of  this  tendency.  Down  to  the  present  time  we  have  before 
us  the  familiar  instance  of  trade-guilds  in  London,  which 
having  ceased  to  perform  their  original  duties,  nevertheless 
jealously  defend  their  possessions  and  privileges.  The  con- 
vention of  Koyal  Burghs  in  Scotland,  which  once  regulated 
the  internal  municipal  laws,  still  meets  annually  though  it 
has  no  longer  any  work  to  do.  And  the  accounts  given  in 
The  Black  Book  of  the  sinecures  which  survived  up  to  recent 
times,  yield  multitudinous  illustrations. 

The  extent  to  which  an  organization  resists  reorganization, 
we  shall  not  fully  appreciate  until  we  observe  that  its  resist- 
ance increases  in  a compound  progression.  For  while  each  new 
part  is  an  additional  obstacle  to  change,  the  formation  oOt  ^ 
involves  a deduction  from  the  forces  causing  change.  If, 
other  things  remaining  the  same,  the  political  structures  of  a 
society  are  further  developed — if  existing  institutions  are 
extended  or  fresh  ones  set  up — if  for  directing  social  activities 
in  greater  detail,  extra  staffs  of  officials  are  appointed ; the 
simultaneous  results  are — an  increase  in  the  aggregate  of 


those  who  form  the  regulating  part,  and  a corresponding  de- 
crease in  the  aggregate  of  those  who  form  the  part  regulated. 
In  various  ways  all  who  compose  the  controlling  and  adminis- 
trative organization,  become  united  with  one  another  and 
separated  from  the  rest.  Whatever  be  their  particular 
duties,  they  are  similarly  related  to  the  governing  centres  of 
their  departments,  and,  through  them,  to  the  supreme  govern- 
ing centre ; and  are  habituated  to  like  sentiments  and  ideas 
respecting  the  set  of  institutions  in  which  they  are  incorpo- 


rated. 


Deceiving  their  subsistence  through  the  national 


revenue,  they  tend  towards  kindred  views  and  feelings 
respecting  the  raising  of  such  revenue.  Whatever  jealousies 


256 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


there  may  be  between  their  divisions,  are  over-ridden  by 
sympathy  when  any  one  division  has  its  existence  or  privi- 
leges endangered;  since  the  interference  with  one  division 
may  spread  to  others.  Moreover,  they  all  stand  in  similar 
relations  to  the  rest  of  the  community,  whose  actions  are  in 
one  way  or  other  superintended  by  them  ; and  hence  are  led 
into  allied  beliefs  respecting  the  need  for  such  superin- 
tendence and  the  propriety  of  submitting  to  it.  No  matter 
what  their  previous  political  opinions  may  have  been,  men 
cannot  become  public  agents  of  any  kind  without  being 
biassed  towards  opinions  congruous  with  their  functions.  So 
that,  inevitably,  each  further  growth  of  the  instrumentalities 
which  control,  or  administer,  or  inspect,  or  in  any  way  direct 
social  forces,  increases  the  impediment  to  future  modifica- 
tions, both  positively  by  strengthening  that  which  has  to  be 
modified,  and  negatively,  by  weakening  the  remainder ; until 
at  length  the  rigidity  becomes  so  great  that  change  is  impos- 
sible and  the  type  becomes  fixed. 

Nor  does  each  further  development  of  political  organization 
increase  the  obstacles  to  change,  only  by  increasing  the 
power  of  the  regulators  and  decreasing  the  power  of  the 
regulated.  For  the  ideas  and  sentiments  of  a community  as 
a whole,  adapt  themselves  to  the  regime  familiar  from  child- 
hood, in  such  wise  that  it  comes  to  be  looked  upon  as  natural. 
In  proportion  as  public  agencies  occupy  a larger  space  in 
daily  experience,  leaving  but  a smaller  space  for  other 
agencies,  there  comes  a greater  tendency  to  think  of  public 
control  as  everywhere  needful,  and  a less  ability  to  conceive 
of  activities  as  otherwise  controlled.  At  the  same  time  the 
sentiments,  adjusted  by  habit  to  the  regulative  machinery, 
become  enlisted  on  its  behalf,  and  adverse  to  the  thought  of 
a vacancy  to  be  made  by  its  absence.  In  brief,  the  general 
law  that  the  social  organism  and  its  units  act  and  re-act  until 
congruity  is  reached,  implies  that  every  further  extension  of 
political  organization  increases  the  obstacle  to  re-organiza- 
tion, not  only  by  adding  to  the  strength  of  the  regulative 


APOLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL.  f 257 

part,  and  taking  from  the  strength  of  the^part  reg&ted, 
but  also  by  producing  in  citizens  thoughts  apd  feelings  < 
in  harmony  with  the  resulting  structure,  and  out/  of  har- 
mony with  anything  substantially  different.  ■ . „ Both 
France  and  Germany  exemplify  this  truth.  M.  Comte,  whlRT ' 
looking  forward  to  an  industrial  state,  was  so  swayed  by 
the  conceptions  and  likings  appropriate  to  the  French  form 
of  society,  that  his  scheme  of  organization  for  the  ideal 
future,  prescribes  arrangements  characteristic  of  the  militant 
type,  and  utterly  at  variance  with  the  industrial  type. 
Indeed,  he  had  a profound  aversion  to  that  individualism 
which  is  a product  of  industrial  life  and  gives  the  character 
to  industrial  institutions.  So,  too,  in  Germany,  we  see  that 
the  socialist  party,  who  are  regarded  and  who  regard  them- 
selves as  wishing  to  re-organize  society  entirely,  are  so  in- 
capable of  really  thinking  away  from  the  social  type  under 
which  they  have  been  nurtured,  that  their  proposed  social 
system  is  in  essence  nothing  else  than  a new  form  of  the 
system  they  would  destroy.  It  is  a system  under  which  life 
and  labour  are  to  be  arranged  and  superintended  by  public 
instrumentalities,  omnipresent  like  those  which  already  exist 
and  no  less  coercive  : the  individual  having  his  life  even 
more  regulated  for  him  than  now. 


While,  then,  the  absence  of  settled  arrangements  negatives 
cooperation,  yet  cooperation  of  a higher  kind  is  hindered  by 
the  arrangements  which  facilitate  cooperation  of  a lower 
kind.  Though  without  established  connexions  among  parts, 
there  can  be  no  combined  actions ; yet  the  more  extensive 
and  elaborate  such  connexions  grow,  the  more  difficult  does  it 
become  to  make  improved  combinations  of  actions.  There  is 
an  increase  of  the  forces  which  tend  to  fix,  and  a decrease  of 
the  forces  which  tend  to  unfix  ; until  the  fully-structured 
social  organism,  like  the  fully-structured  individual  organism, 
becomes  no  longer  adaptable. 


§ 445.  In  a living  animal,  formed  as  it  is  of  aggregated 


258 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


units  originally  like  in  kind,  the  progress  of  organization  im- 
plies, not  only  that  the  units  composing  each  differentiated 
part  severally  maintain  their  positions,  but  also  that  their 
progeny  succeed  to  those  positions.  Bile-cells  which,  while 
performing  their  functions,  grow  and  give  origin  to  new  bile- 
cells,  are,  when  they  decay  and  disappear,  replaced  by  these  : 
the  cells  descending  from  them  do  not  migrate  to  the  kid- 
neys, or  the  muscles,  or  the  nervous  centres,  to  join  in  the 
performance  of  their  duties.  And,  evidently,  unless  the 
specialized  units  each  organ  is  made  of,  produced  units  simi- 
larly specialized,  which  remained  in  the  same  place,  there 
could  be  none  of  those  settled  relations  among  parts  which 
characterize  the  organism,  and  fit  it  for  its  particular  mode  of 
life. 

In  a society  also,  establishment  of  structure  is  favoured  by 
the  transmission  of  positions  and  functions  through  successive 
generations.  The  maintenance  of  those  class-divisions  which 
arise  as  political  organization  advances,  implies  the  inherit- 
ance of  a rank  and  a place  in  each  class.  The  like  happens 
with  those  sub-divisions  of  classes  which,  in  some  societies, 
constitute  castes,  and  in  other  societies  are  exemplified  by  in- 
corporated trades.  Where  custom  or  law  compels  the  sons  of 
each  worker  to  follow  their  father’s  occupation,  there  result 
among  the  industrial  structures  obstacles  to  change  analogous 
to  those  which  result  in  the  regulative  structures  from  im- 
passable divisions  of  ranks.  India  shows  this  in  an  extreme 
degree  ; and  in  a less  degree  it  was  shown  by  the  craft-guilds 
of  early  days  in  England,  which  facilitated  adoption  of  a craft 
by  the  children  of  those  engaged  in  it,  and  hindered  adoption 
of  it  by  others.  Thus  we  may  call  inheritance  of  position  and 
function,  the  principle  of  fixity  in  social  organization. 

There  is  another  way  in  which  succession  by  inheritance, 
whether  to  class-position  or  to  occupation,  conduces  to 
stability.  It  secures  supremacy  of  the  elder ; and  supremacy 
of  the  elder  tends  towards  maintenance  of  the  established 
order.  A system  under  which  a chief-ruler,  sub-ruler,  head  of 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


259 


clan  or  house,  official,  or  any  person  having  the  power  given 
by  rank  or  property,  retains  his  place  until  at  death  it  is  filled 
by  a descendant,  in  conformity  with  some  accepted  rule  of 
succession,  is  a system  under  which,  by  implication,  the 
young,  and  even  the  middle-aged,  are  excluded  from  the  con- 
duct of  affairs.  So,  too,  where  an  industrial  system  is  such 
that  the  son,  habitually  brought  up  to  his  father’s  business, 
cannot  hold  a master’s  position  till  his  father  dies,  it  follows 
that  the  regulative  power  of  the  elder  over  the  processes  of 
production  and  distribution,  is  scarcely  at  all  qualified  by  the 
power  of  the  younger.  Now  it  is  a truth  daily  exemplified, 
that  increasing  rigidity  of  organization,  necessitated  by  the 
process  of  evolution,  produces  in  age  an  increasing  strength 
of  habit  and  aversion  to  change.  Hence  it  results  that  suc- 
cession to  place  and  function  by  inheritance,  having  as  its 
necessary  concomitant  a monopoly  of  power  by  the  eldest, 
involves  a prevailing  conservatism  ; and  thus  further  insures 
maintenance  of  things  as  they  are. 

Conversely,  social  change  is  facile  in  proportion  as  men’s 
places  and  functions  are  determinable  by  personal  qualities. 
Members  of  one  rank  who  establish  themselves  in  another 
rank,  in  so  far  directly  break  the  division  between  the  ranks ; 
and  they  indirectly  weaken  it  by  preserving  their  family 
relations  with  the  first,  and  forming  new  ones  with  the 
second ; while,  further,  the  ideas  and  sentiments  pervading 
the  two  ranks,  previously  more  or  less  different,  are  made 
to  qualify  one  another  and  to  work  changes  of  character. 
Similarly  if,  between  sub-divisions  of  the  producing  and  dis- 
tributing classes,  there  are  no  barriers  to  migration,  then,  in 
proportion  as  migrations  are  numerous,  influences  physical 
and  mental,  following  inter-fusion,  alter  the  natures  of  their 
units ; at  the  same  time  that  they  check  the  establishment  of 
differences  of  nature  caused  by  differences  of  occupation. 
Such  transpositions  of  individuals  between  class  and  class,  or 
group  and  group,  must,  on  the  average,  however,  depend  on 
the  fitnesses  of  the  individuals  for  their  new  places  and  duties. 


260 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Intrusions  will  ordinarily  succeed  only  where  the  intruding 
citizens  have  more  than  usual  aptitudes  for  the  businesses 
they  undertake.  Those  who  desert  their  original  functions, 
are  at  a disadvantage  in  the  competition  with  those  whose 
functions  they  assume ; and  they  can  overcome  this  disad- 
vantage only  by  force  of  some  superiority : must  do  the  new 
thing  better  than  those  born  to  it,  and  so  tend  to  improve 
the  doing  of  it  by  their  example.  This  leaving  of  men  to 
have  their  careers  determined  by  their  efficiencies,  we  may 
therefore  call  the  principle  of  change  in  social  organization. 

As  we  saw  that  succession  by  inheritance  conduces  in  a 
secondary  way  to  stability,  by  keeping  authority  in  the  hands 
of  those  who  by  age  are  made  most  averse  to  new  practices, 
so  here,  conversely,  we  may  see  that  succession  by  efficiency 
conduces  in  a secondary  way  to  change.  Both  positively  and 
negatively  the  possession  of  power  by  the  young  facilitates 
innovation.  While  the  energies  are  overflowing,  little  fear  is 
felt  of  those  obstacles  to  improvement  and  evils  it  may  bring, 
which,  when  energies  are  failing,  look  formidable  ; and  at  the 
same  time  the  greater  imaginativeness  that  goes  along  with 
higher  vitality,  joined  with  a smaller  strength  of  habit,  facili- 
tates acceptance  of  fresh  ideas  and  adoption  of  untried 
methods.  Since,  then,  where  the  various  social  positions  come 
to  be  respectively  filled  by  those  who  are  experimentally 
proved  to  be  the  fittest,  the  relatively  young  are  permitted  to 
exercise  authority,  it  results  that  succession  by  efficiency 
furthers  change  in  social  organization,  indirectly  as  well  as 
1’  ectly. 


Contrasting  the  two,  we  thus  see  that  while  the  acquire- 
ment of  function  by  inheritance  conduces  to  rigidity  of  struc- 
ture, the  acquirement  of  function  by  efficiency  conduces  to 
plasticity  of  structure.  Succession  by  descent  favours  the 
maintenance  of  that  which  exists.  Succession  by  fitness 
favours  transformation,  and  makes  possible  something  better. 

§ 446.  As  was  pointed  out  in  § 228,  “ complication  of 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


2G1 


structure  accompanies  increase  of  mass,”  in  social  organisms 
as  in  individual  organisms.  When  small  societies  are  com- 
pounded into  a larger  society,  the  controlling  agencies  needed 
in  the  several  component  societies  must  be  subordinated  to  a 
central  controlling  agency : new  structures  are  required.  Ee- 
compounding  necessitates  a kindred  further  complexity  in 
the  governmental  arrangements ; and  at  each  of  such  stages 
of  increase,  all  other  arrangements  must  become  more  com- 
plicated. As  Puruy  remarks — “By  becoming  a world  in 
place  of  a town,  Eome  could  not  conserve  institutions  esta- 
blished for  a single  city  and  a small  territory.  . . . How 

was  it  possible  for  sixty  millions  of  provincials  to  enter  the 
narrow  and  rigid  circle  of  municipal  institutions  V The  like 
holds  where,  instead  of  extension  of  territory,  there  is  only 
increase  of  population.  The  contrast  between  the  simple 
administrative  system  which  sufficed  in  old  English  times 
for  a million  people,  and  the  complex  administrative  system 
at  present  needed  for  many  millions,  sufficiently  indicates 
this  general  truth. 

But  now,  mark  a corollary.  If,  on  the  one  hand,  further 
growth  implies  more  complex  structure,  on  the  other  hand, 
changeableness  of  structure  is  a condition  to  further  growth ; 
and,  conversely,  unchangeableness  of  structure  is  a concomi- 
tant of  arrested  growth.  Like  the  correlative  law  just  noted, 
this  law  is  clearly  seen  in  individual  organisms.  Necessarily, 
transition  from  the  small  immature  form  to  the  large 
mature  form  in  a living  creature,  implies  that  all  the  parts 
have  to  be  changed  in  their  sizes  and  connexions:  every 
detail  of  every  organ  has  to  be  modified ; and  this  implies 
the  retention  of  plasticity.  Necessarily,  also,  when,  on 
approaching  maturity,  the  organs  are  assuming  their  final 
arrangement,  their  increasing  definiteness  and  firmness  con- 
stitute an  increasing  impediment  to  growth : the  un-building 
and  re-building  required  before  there  can  be  re-adjustment, 
become  more  and  more  difficult.  So  is  it  with  a society. 
Augmentation  of  its  mass  necessitates  change  of  the  pre- 


262 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


existing  structures,  either  by  incorporation  of  the  increment 
with  them,  or  by  their  extension  through  it.  Every  further 
elaboration  of  the  arrangements  entails  an  additional  obstacle 
to  this ; and  when  rigidity  is  reached,  such  modifications  of 
them  as  increase  of  mass  would  involve,  are  impossible,  and 
increase  is  prevented. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Controlling  and  administrative  instru- 
mentalities antagonize  growth  by  absorbing  the  materials  for 
growth.  Already  when  pointing  out  the  evils  which  accom- 
pany the  benefits  gained  by  political  organization,  this  effect 
has  been  indirectly  implied.  Governmental  expenditure, 
there  represented  as  deducting  from  the  lives  of  producers 
by  taking  away  their  produce,  has  for  its  ulterior  result  de- 
ducting from  the  life  of  the  community : depletion  of  the 
units  entails  depletion  of  the  aggregate.  Where  the  abstrac- 
tion of  private  means  for  public  purposes  is  excessive,  the 
impoverishment  leads  to  decrease  of  population ; and  where 
it  is  less  excessive,  to  arrest  of  population.  Clearly  those 
members  of  a society  who  form  the  regulative  parts,  together 
with  all  their  dependents,  have  to  be  supplied  with  the  means 
of  living  by  the  parts  which  carry  on  the  processes  of  pro- 
duction and  distribution ; and  if  the  regulative  parts  go  on 
increasing  relatively  to  the  other  parts,  there  must  eventually 
be  reached  a point  at  which  they  absorb  the  entire  surplus, 
and  multiplication  is  stopped  by  innutrition. 

Hence  a significant  relation  between  the  structure  of  a 
society  and  its  growth.  Organization  in  excess  of  need,  pre- 
vents the  attainment  of  that  larger  size  and  accompanying 
higher  type  which  might  else  have  arisen. 

§ 447.  To  aid  our  interpretations  of  the  special  facts 
presently  to  be  dealt  with,  we  must  keep  in  mind  the  fore- 
going general  facts.  They  may  be  summed  up  as  fol- 
lows : — 

Cooperation  is  made  possible  by  society,  and  makes  society 


POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION  IN  GENERAL. 


263 


possible.  It  pre-supposes  associated  men ; and  men  remain 
associated  because  of  the  benefits  cooperation  yields  them. 

But  there  cannot  be  concerted  actions  without  agencies  by 
which  actions  are  adjusted  in  their  times,  amounts,  and  kinds; 
and  the  actions  cannot  be  of  various  kinds  without  the  co- 
operators  undertaking  different  duties.  That  is  to  say,  the 
cooperators  must  become  organized,  either  voluntarily  or 
involuntarily. 

The  organization  which  cooperation  implies,  is  of  two 
kinds,  distinct  in  origin  and  nature.  The  one,  arising  directly 
from  the  pursuit  of  individual  ends,  and  indirectly  conducing 
to  social  welfare,  develops  unconsciously  and  is  non-coercive. 
The  other,  arising  directly  from  the  pursuit  of  social  ends, 
and  indirectly  conducing  to  individual  welfare,  develops 
consciously  and  is  coercive. 

While,  by  making  cooperation  possible,  political  organiza- 
tion achieves  benefits,  deductions  from  these  benefits  are 
entailed  by  the  organization.  Maintenance  of  it  is  costly ; 
and  the  cost  may  become  a greater  evil  than  the  evils  escaped. 
It  necessarily  imposes  restraints ; and  these  restraints  may 
become  so  extreme  that  anarchy,  with  all  its  miseries,  is 
preferable. 

An  established  organization  is  an  obstacle  to  re-organiza- 
tion. Self-sustentation  is  the  primary  aim  of  each  part  as  of 
the  whole ; and  hence  parts  once  formed  tend  to  continue, 
whether  they  are  or  are  not  useful.  Moreover,  each  addition 
to  the  regulative  structures,  implying,  other  things  equal,  a 
simultaneous  deduction  from  the  rest  of  the  society  which 
is  regulated,  it  results  that  while  the  obstacles  to  change 
are  increased,  the  forces  causing  change  are  decreased. 

Maintenance  of  a society’s  organization  implies  that  the 
units  forming  its  component  structures  shall  severally  be  re- 
placed as  they  die.  Stability  is  favoured  if  the  vacancies 
they  leave  are  filled  without  dispute  by  descendants ; while 
change  is  favoured  if  the  vacancies  are  filled  by  those  who 


264 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


are  experimefn tally  proved  to  be  best  fitted  for  them.  Suc- 
cession by  inheritance  is  thus  the  principle  of  social  rigidity ; 
while  succession  by  efficiency  is  the  principle  of  social 
plasticity. 

Though,  to  make  cooperation  possible,  and  therefore  to 
facilitate  social  growth,  there  must  be  organization,  yet  the 
organization  formed  impedes  further  growth;  since  further 
growth  implies  re-organization,  which  the  existing  organiza- 
tion resists ; and  since  the  existing  organization  absorbs  part 
of  the  material  for  growth. 

So  that  while,  at  each  stage,  better  immediate  results  may 
be  achieved  by  completing  organization,  they  must  be  at  the 
expense  of  better  ultimate  results. 


CHAPTER  III. 

POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 

§ 448.  Tiie  analogy  between  individual  organisms  and 
social  organisms,  which  holds  in  so  many  respects,  holds  in 
respect  to  the  actions  which  cause  growth.  We  shall  find  it 
instructive  to  glance  at  political  integration  in  the  light  of 
this  analogy. 

Every  animal  sustains  itself  and  grows  by  incorporating 
either  the  materials  composing  other  animals  or  those  com- 
posing plants ; and  from  microscopic  protozoa  upwards,  it  has 
been  through  success  in  the  struggle  thus  to  incorporate,  that 
animals  of  the  greatest  sizes  and  highest  structures  have  been 
evolved.  This  process  is  carried  on  by  creatures  of  the  lowest 
kinds  in  a purely  physical  or  insentient  way.  Without 
nervous  system  or  fixed  distribution  of  parts,  the  rhizopod 
draws  in  fragments  of  nutritive  matter  by  actions  which  we 
are  obliged  to  regard  as  unconscious.  So  is  it,  too,  with 
simple  aggregates  formed  by  the  massing  of  such  minute 
creatures.  The  sponge,  for  example,  in  that  framework  of 
fibres  familiar  to  us  in  its  dead  state,  holds  together,  when 
living,  a multitude  of  separate  monads ; and  the  activities 
which  go  on  in  the  sponge,  are  such  as  directly  further  the 
separate  lives  of  these  monads,  and  indirectly  further  the 
life  of  the  whole:  the  whole  having  neither  sentiency  nor 
power  of  movement.  At  a higher  stage,  however,  the  process 
of  taking  in  nutritive  materials  by  a composite  organism, 


266 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


comes  to  be  carried  on  in  a sentient  way,  and  in  a way 
differing  from  the  primitive  way  in  this,  that  it  directly 
furthers  the  life  of  the  whole,  and  indirectly  furthers  the 
lives  of  the  component  units.  Eventually,  the  well-consoli- 
dated and  organized  aggregate,  which  originally  had  no  other 
life  than  was  constituted  by  the  separate  lives  of  these 
minute  creatures  massed  together,  acquires  a corporate  life 
predominating  over  their  lives ; and  also  acquires  desires  by 
which  its  activities  are  guided  to  acts  of  incorporation.  To 
which  add  the  obvious  corollary  that  as,  in  the  course  of 
evolution,  its  size  increases,  it  incorporates  with  itself  larger 
and  larger  aggregates  as  prey. 

Analogous  stages  may  be  traced  in  the  growth  of  social 
organisms,  and  in  the  accompanying  forms  of  action.  At  first 
there  is  no  other  life  in  the  group  than  that  seen  in  the  lives 
of  its  members ; and  only  as  organization  increases  does  the 
group  as  a whole  come  to  have  that  joint  life  constituted 
by  mutually-dependant  actions.  The  members  of  a primi- 
tive horde,  loosely  aggregated,  and  without  distinctions  of 
power,  cooperate  for  immediate  furtherance  of  individual 
sustentation,  and  in  a comparatively  small  degree  for  corpo- 
rate sustentation.  Even  when,  the  interests  of  all  being 
simultaneously  endangered,  they  simultaneously  fight,  they 
still  fight  separately — their  actions  are  uncoordinated ; and 
the  only  spoils  of  successful  battle  are  such  as  can  be  indi- 
vidually appropriated.  Eut  in  the  course  of  the  struggles  for 
existence  between  groups  thus  unorganized,  there  comes,  with 
the  development  of  such  political  organization  as  gives  tribal 
individuality,  the  struggle  to  incorporate  one  another,  first 
partially  and  then  wholly.  Tribes  which  are  larger,  or  better 
organized,  or  both,  conquer  adjacent  tribes  and  annex  .them, 
so  that  they  form  parts  of  a compound  whole.  And  as 
political  evolution  advances,  it  becomes  a trait  of  the  larger 
and  stronger  societies  that  they  acquire  appetites  prompting 
them  to  subjugate  and  incorporate  weaker  societies. 

Full  perception  of  this  difference  will  be  gained  on  looking 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


267 


more  closely  at  the  contrast  between  the  wars  of  small  groups 
and  those  of  large  nations.  As,  even  among  dogs,  the  fights 
that  arise  between  individuals  when  one  attempts  to  take 
another's  food,  grow  into  fights  between  packs  if  one  tres- 
passes upon  the  feeding  haunts  of  another  (as  is  seen  in 
Constantinople)  ; so  among  primitive  men,  individual  con- 
flicts for  food  pass  into  conflicts  between  hordes,  when,  in 
pursuit  of  food,  one  encroaches  on  another’s  territory.  After 
the  pastoral  state  is  reached,  such  motives  continue  with  a 
difference.  “ Eetaliation  for  past  robberies,"  is  the  habitual  plea 
for  war  among  the  Bechuanas  : “ their  real  object  being  always 
the  acquisition  of  cattle."  Similarly  among  European  peoples 
in  ancient  days.  Achilles  says  of  the  Trojans — “ They  are 
blameless  as  respects  me,  since  they  have  never  driven  away 
my  oxen,  nor  my  horses."  And  the  fact  that  in  Scotland 
during  early  times,  cattle-raids  were  habitual  causes  of  inter- 
tribal fights,  shows  us  how  persistent  have  been  these 
struggles  for  the  means  of  individual  sustentation.  Even 
where  the  life  is  agricultural,  the  like  happens  at  the  outset. 
“ A field  or  a farrow’s  breadth  of  land  is  disputed  upon  the 
border  of  a district,  and  gives  rise  to  rustic  strife  between  the 
parties  and  their  respective  hamlets,"  says  Macpherson  of  the 
Khonds;  and  “ should  the  tribes  to  which  the  disputants 
belong  be  disposed  to  hostility,  they  speedily  embrace  the 
quarrel."  So  that  competition  in  social  growth  is  still  re- 
stricted to  competition  for  the  means  to  that  personal  welfare 
indirectly  conducive  to  social  growth. 

In  yet  another  way  do  we  see  exemplified  this  general 
truth.  The  furthering  of  growth  by  that  which  furthers  the 
multiplication  of  units,  is  shown  us  in  the  stealing  of 
women — a second  cause  of  primitive  war.  Men  of  one  tribe 
who  abduct  the  women  of  another,  not  only  by  so  doing 
directly  increase  the  number  of  their  own  tribe,  but,  in  a 
greater  degree,  indirectly  conduce  to  its  increase  by  after- 
wards adding  to  the  number  of  children.  In  which  mode  of 
growing  at  one  another’s  expense,  common  among  existing 
3 


268 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


tribes  of  savages,  and  once  common  among  tribes  from  which 
civilized  nations  have  descended,  we  still  see  the  same  trait : 
any  augmentation  of  the  group  which  takes  place,  is  an  indi- 
rect result  of  individual  appropriations  and  reproductions. 

Contrariwise,  in  more  advanced  stages  the  struggle  between 
societies  is,  not  to  appropriate  one  another’s  means  of  sus- 
tentation  and  multiplication,  but  to  appropriate  one  another 
bodily.  Which  society  shall  incorporate  other  societies  with 
itself,  becomes  the  question.  Under  one  aspect,  the  history 
of  large  nations  is  a history  of  successes  in  such  struggles ; 
and  down  to  our  own  day  nations  are  being  thus  enlarged. 
Part  of  Italy  is  incorporated  by  France ; part  of  France  is 
incorporated  by  Germany ; part  of  Turkey  is  incorporated  by 
Russia ; and  between  Russia  and  England  there  appears  to 
be  a competition  -which  shall  increase  most  by  absorbing 
uncivilized  and  semi-civilized  peoples. 

Thus,  then,  with  social  organisms  as  with  individual 
organisms,  it  is  through  the  struggle  for  existence,  first,  by 
appropriating  one  another’s  means  of  growth,  and  then  by 
devouring  one  another,  that  there  arise  those  great  aggre- 
gates which  at  once  make  possible  high  organization,  and 
require  high  organization. 

§ 449.  Political  integration  is  in  some  cases  furthered,  and 
in  other  cases  hindered,  by  conditions,  external  and  internal. 
There  are  the  characters  of  the  environment,  and  there  are 
the  characters  of  the  men  composing  the  society.  We  will 
glance  at  them  in  this  order. 

How  political  integration  is  prevented  by  an  inclemency 
of  climate,  or  an  infertility  of  soil,  which  keeps  down  popu- 
lation, was  shown  in  §§  14 — 21.  To  the  instances  there 
named  may  be  added  that  of  the  Seminoles,  who  “ being  so 
thinly  scattered  over  a barren  desert,  they  seldom  assemble 
to  take  black  drink,  or  deliberate  on  public  matters and, 
again,  that  of  certain  Snake  Indians,  of  whom  Schoolcraft 
says,  “ the  paucity  of  game  in  this  region  is,  I have  little 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


269 


doubt,  tlie  cause  of  the  almost  entire  absence  of  social  organi- 
zation ” We  saw,  too,  that  great  uniformity  of  surface,  of 
mineral  products,  of  flora,  of  fauna,  are  impediments  ; and 
that  on  the  special  characters  of  the  flora  and  fauna,  as  con- 
taining species  favourable  or  unfavourable  to  human  welfare, 
in  part  depends  the  individual  prosperity  required  for  social 
growth.  It  was  also  pointed  out  that  structure  of  the 

habitat,  as  facilitating  or  impeding  communication,  and  as 
rendering  escape  easy  or  hard,  has  much  to  do  with  the  size 
of  the  social  aggregate  formed.  To  the  illustrations  before 
given,  showing  that  mountain-haunting  peoples  and  peoples 
living  in  deserts  and  marshes  are  difficult  to  consolidate, 
while  peoples  penned  in  by  barriers  are  consolidated  with 
facility,  I may  here  add  two  significant  ones  not  before 
noticed.  One  occurs  in  the  Polynesian  islands — Tahiti, 
Hawaii,  Tonga,  Samoa,  and  the  rest — where,  restrained 
within  limits  by  surrounding  seas,  the  inhabitants  have 
become  united  more  or  less  closely  into  aggregates  of  con- 
siderable sizes.  The  other  is  furnished  by  ancient  Peru, 
where,  before  the  time  of  the  Tncas,  semi-civilized  com- 
munities had  been  formed  in  valleys  separated  from  each 
other  “ on  the  coast,  by  hot,  and  almost  impassable  deserts, 
and  in  the  interior  by  lofty  mountains,  or  cold  and  trackless 
'punas!'  And  to  the  implied  inability  of  these  peoples  to 
escape  governmental  coercion,  thus  indicated  by  Squier  as  a 
factor  in  their  civilization,  is  ascribed,  by  the  ancient  Spanish 
writer  Cieza,  the  difference  between  them  and  the  neighbour- 
ing Indians  of  Popoyan,  who  could  retreat,  “ whenever 
attacked,  to  other  fertile  regions.”  How,  conversely, 

the  massing  of  men  together  is  furthered  by  ease  of  internal 
communication  within  the  area  occupied,  is  sufficiently  mani- 
fest. The  importance  of  it  is  implied  by  the  remark  of 
Grant  concerning  Equatorial  Africa,  that  “no  jurisdiction 
extends  over  a district  which  cannot  be  crossed  in  three  or 
four  days,”  And  such  facts,  implying  that  political  integra- 
tion may  increase  as  the  means  of  going  from  place  to  place 


270 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


become  better,  remind  us  how,  from  Roman  times  down- 
wards, the  formation  of  roads  has  made  larger  social  aggre- 
gates possible. 

Evidence  that  a certain  type  of  physique  is  requisite,  was 
given  in  § 16 ; where  we  saw  that  the  races  which  have 
evolved  large  societies,  had  previously  lived  under  conditions 
fostering  vigour  of  constitution.  I will  here  add  only  that 
the  constitutional  energy  needed  for  continuous  labour,  with- 
out which  there  cannot  be  civilized  life  and  the  massing  of 
men  presupposed  by  it,  is  an  energy  not  to  be  quickly 
acquired ; but  is  to  be  acquired  only  by  inherited  modifica- 
tions slowly  accumulated.  Good  evidence  that  in  lower 
types  of  men  there  is  a physical  incapacity  for  work,  is 
supplied  by  the  results  of  the  Jesuit  government  over  the 
Paraguay  Indians.  These  Indians  were  reduced  to  indus- 
trious habits,  and  to  an  orderly  life  which  was  thought  by 
many  writers  admirable ; but  there  eventually  resulted  a 
fatal  evil:  they  became  infertile.  Not  improbably,  the 
infertility  commonly  observed  in  savage  races  that  have  been 
led  into  civilized  activities,  is  consequent  on  taxing  the 
physique  to  a degree  greater  than  it  is  constituted  to  bear. 

Certain  moral  traits  which  favour,  and  others  which  hinder, 
the  union  of  men  into  large  groups,  were  pointed  out  when 
treating  of  “ The  Primitive  Man — Emotional.”  Here  I will 
re-illustrate  such  of  these  as  concern  the  fitness  or  unfitness 
of  the  type  for  subordination.  “ The  Abors,  as  they  them- 
selves say,  are  like  tigers,  two  cannot  dwell  in  one  den;”  and 
“ their  houses  are  scattered  singly,  or  in  groups  of  two  and 
three.”  Conversely,  some  of  the  African  races  not  only  yield 
when  coerced  but  admire  one  who  coerces  them.  Instance 
the  Damaras,  who,  as  Galton  says,  “ court  slavery”  and 
“ follow  a master  as  spaniels  would.”  The  like  is  alleged  of 
other  South  Africans.  One  of  them  said  to  a gentleman 
known  to  me — “ You’re  a pretty  fellow  to  be  a master  ; I’ve 
been  with  you  two  years  and  you’ve  never  beaten  me  once.” 
Obviously  on  the  dispositions  thus  strongly  contrasted,  the 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


271 


impossibility  or  possibility  of  political  integration  largely 
depends.  There  must  be  added,  as  also  influential,  the 

presence  or  the  absence  of  the  nomadic  instinct.  Varieties 
of  men  whose  wandering  habits  have  been  unchecked  during 
countless  generations  of  hunting  life  and  pastoral  life,  show 
us  that  even  when  forced  into  agricultural  life,  their  tendency 
to  move  about  greatly  hinders  aggregation.  It  is  thus  among 
the  hill-tribes  of  India.  “ The  Kookies  are  naturally  a mi- 
gratory race,  never  occupying  the  same  place  for  more  than 
two  or,  at  the  utmost,  three  years and  the  like  holds  of  the 
Mishmees,  who  “ never  name  their  villages the  existence  of 
them  being  too  transitory.  In  some  races  this  migratory 
instinct  survives  and  shows  its  effects,  even  after  the  forma- 
tion of  populous  towns.  Writing  of  the  Bachassins  in  1812, 
Burchell  says  that  Litakun,  containing  15,000  inhabitants, 
had  been  twice  removed  during  a period  of  ten  years. 
Clearly,  peoples  thus  characterized  are  less  easily  united  into 
large  societies  than  peoples  who  love  their  early  homes. 

Concerning  the  intellectual  traits  which  aid  or  impede  the 
cohesion  of  men  into  masses,  I may  supplement  what  was 
said  when  delineating  u The  Primitive  Man — Intellectual,” 
by  two  corollaries  of  much  significance.  Social  life  being  co- 
operative life,  presupposes  not  only  an  emotional  nature 
fitted  for  cooperation,  but  also  such  intelligence  as  perceives 
the  benefits  of  cooperation,  and  can  so  regulate  actions  as  to 
effect  it.  The  unreflectiveness,  the  deficient  consciousness  of 
causation,  and  the  lack  of  constructive  imagination,  shown  by 
the  uncivilized,  hinder  combined  action  to  a degree  difficult  to 
believe  until  proof  is  seen.  Even  the  semi-civilized  exhibit 
in  quite  simple  matters  an  absence  of  concert  which  is 
astonishing.*  Implying,  as  this  does,  that  cooperation  can 

* The  behaviour  of  Arab  boatmen  on  the  Nile  displays,  in  a striking  way, 
this  inability  to  act  together.  When  jointly  hauling  at  a rope,  and  begin- 
ning to  chant,  the  inference  one  draws  is  that  they  pull  in  time  with  their 
words.  On  observing,  however,  it  turns  out  that  their  efforts  are  not  com- 
bined at  given  intervals,  but  are  put  forth  without  any  unity  of  rhythm. 
Similarly  when  using  their  poles  to  push  the  dahabeiah  off  a sand-bank,  the 


272 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


at  first  be  effective  only  where  there  is  obedience  to  peremp- 
tory command,  it  follows  that  there  must  be  not  only  an 
emotional  nature  which  produces  subordination,  but  also  an 
intellectual  nature  which  produces  faith  in  a commander.  That 
credulity  which  leads  to  awe  of  the  capable  man  as  a pos- 
sessor of  supernatural  power,  and  which  afterwards,-  causing 
dread  of  his  ghost,  prompts  fulfilment  of  his  remembered 
injunctions — that  credulity  which  initiates  the  religious  con- 
trol of  a deified  chief,  re-inforcing  the  political  control  of  his 
divine  descendant,  is  a credulity  which  cannot  be  dispensed 
with  during  early  stages  of  integration.  Scepticism  is  fatal 
while  the  character,  moral  and  intellectual,  is  such  as  to 
necessitate  compulsory  cooperation. 

Political  integration,  then,  hindered  in  many  regions  by 
environing  conditions,  has  in  many  races  of  mankind  been 
prevented  from  advancing  far  by  unfitnesses  of  nature — 
phvsical,  moral,  and  intellectual. 

§ 450.  Besides  fitness  of  nature  in  the  united  individuals, 
social  union  requires  a considerable  homogeneity  of  nature 
among  them.  At  the  outset  this  needful  likeness  of  kind  is 
insured  by  greater  or  less  kinship  in  blood.  Evidence  meets 
us  everywhere  among  the  uncivilized.  Of  the  Bushmen, 
Lichtenstein  says,  “families  alone  form  associations  in  single 
small  hordes — sexual  feelings,  the  instinctive  love  to  children, 
or  the  customary  attachment  among  relations,  are  the  only 
ties  that  keep  them  in  any  sort  of  union.”  Again,  “the 
Ptock  Yeddahs  are  divided  into  small  clans  or  families  asso- 
ciated for  relationship,  who  agree  in  partitioning  the  forest 

succession  of  grunts  they  severally  make,  is  so  rapid  that  it  is  manifestly 
impossible  for  them  to  give  those  effectual  united  pushes  which  imply 
appreciable  intervals  of  preparation.  Still  more  striking  is  the  want  of  con- 
cert shown  by  the  hundred  or  more  Nubians  and  Arabs  employed  to  drag 
the  vessel  up  the  rapids.  There  are  shoutings,  gesticulations,  divided  actions, 
utter  confusion  ; so  that  only  by  accident  does  it  at  length  happen  that  a 
sufficient  number  of  efforts  are  put  forth  at  the  same  moment.  As  was  said 
to  me,  with  some  exaggeration,  by  our  Arab  dragoman,  a travelled  man 
— “ Ten  Englishmen  or  Frenchmen  would  do  the  thing  at  once.” 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


273 


among  themselves  for  hunting  grounds.”  And  this  rise  of 
the  society  out  of  the  family,  seen  in  these  least  organized 
groups,  re-appears  in  the  considerably  organized  groups  of 
more  advanced  savages.  Instance  the  New  Zealanders,  of 
whom  we  read  that  “ eighteen  historical  nations  occupy  the 
country,  each  being  sub-divided  into  many  tribes,  originally 
families,  as  the  prefix  Ngati,  signifying  offspring  (equivalent 
to  0 or  Mac)  obviously  indicates.”  This  connexion  between 
blood  relationship  and  social  union  is  well  shown  by 
Humboldt’s  remarks  concerning  South  American  Indians. 
“ Savages,”  he  says,  “ know  only  their  own  family,  and  a tribe 
appears  to  them  but  a more  numerous  assemblage  of  rela- 
tions.” When  Indians  who  inhabit  the  missions  see  those  of 
the  forest,  who  are  unknown  to  them,  they  say — “ They  are 
no  doubt  my  relations  ; I understand  them  when  they  speak 
to  me.”  But  these  same  savages  detest  all  who  are  not  of 
their  tribe.  “ They  know  the  duties  of  family  ties  and  of 
relationship,  but  not  those  of  humanity.” 

When  treating  of  the  domestic  relations,  reasons  were 
given  for  concluding  that  social  stability  increases  as  kinships 
become  more  definite  and  extended;  since  development  of 
kinships,  while  insuring  the  likeness  of  nature  which  furthers 
cooperation,  involves  the  strengthening  and  multiplication 
of  those  family  bonds  which  check  disruption.  Where  pro- 
miscuity is  prevalent,  or  where  marriages  are  temporary,  the 
known  relationships  are  relatively  few  and  not  close ; and 
there  is  little  more  social  cohesion  than  results  from  habit 
and  vague  sense  of  kinship.  Polyandry,  especially  of  the 
higher  kind,  produces  relationships  of  some  definiteness, 
which  admit  of  being  traced  further  : so  serving  better  to  tie 
the  social  group  together.  And  a greater  advance  in  the 
nearness  and  the  number  of  family  connexions  results  from 
polygyny.  But,  as  was  shown,  it  is  from  monogamy  that 
there  arise  family  connexions  which  are  at  once  the  most 
definite  and  the  most  wide-spreading  in  their  ramifications ; 
and  out  of  monogamic  families  are  developed  the  largest  and 


274 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


most  coherent  societies.  In  two  allied,  yet  distinguishable, 
ways,  does  monogamy  favour  social  solidarity. 

Unlike  the  children  of  the  polyandric  family,  who  are 
something  less  than  half  brothers  and  sisters  (see  § 300,  note), 
and  unlike  the  children  of  the  polygynic  family,  most  of 
whom  are  only  half  brothers  and  sisters,  the  children  of  the 
monogamic  family  are,  in  the  great  majority  of  cases,  all  of 
the  same  blood  on  both  sides.  Being  thus  themselves  more 
closely  related,  it  follows  that  their  clusters  of  children  are 
more  closely  related ; and  where,  as  happens  in  early  stages, 
these  clusters  of  children  when  grown  up  continue  to  form  a 
community,  and  labour  together,  they  are  united  alike  by 
their  kinships  and  by  their  industrial  interests.  Though 
with  the  growth  of  a family  group  into  a gens  which  spreads, 
the  industrial  interests  divide,  yet  these  kinships  prevent  the 
divisions  from  becoming  as  marked  as  they  would  otherwise 
become.  And,  similarly,  when  the  gens,  in  course  of  time, 
develops  into  the  tribe.  Nor  is  this  all.  If  local  cir- 

cumstances bring  together  several  such  tribes,  which  are  still 
allied  in  blood  though  more  remotely,  it  results  that  when, 
seated  side  by  side,  they  are  gradually  fused,  partly  by  inter- 
spersion  and  partly  by  intermarriage,  the  compound  society 
formed,  united  by  numerous  and  complicated  links  of  kin- 
ship as  well  as  by  political  interests,  is  more  strongly  bound 
together  than  it  would  otherwise  be.  Dominant  ancient 
societies  illustrate  this  truth.  Says  Grote — “All  that  we 
hear  of  the  most  ancient  Athenian  laws  is  based  upon  the 
gentile  and  phratric  divisions,  which  are  treated  throughout 
as  extensions  of  the  family.”  Similarly,  according  to  Momm- 
sen, on  the  “ Boman  Household  was  based  the  Boman 
State,  both  as  respected  its  constituent  elements  and  its  form. 
The  community  of  the  Boman  people  arose  out  of  the  junc- 
tion (in  whatever  way  brought  about)  of  such  ancient  clan- 
ships as  the  Bomilii,  Yoltinii,  Fabii,  &c.”  And  Sir  Henry 
Maine  has  shown  in  detail  the  ways  in  which  the  simple 
family  passes  into  the  house -community,  and  eventually  the 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


275 


village-community.  Though,  in  presence  of  the 

evidence  furnished  by  races  having  irregular  sexual  relations, 
we  cannot  allege  that  sameness  of  blood  is  the  primary 
reason  for  political  cooperation — though  in  numerous  tribes 
which  have  not  risen  into  the  pastoral  state,  there  is  com- 
bination for  offence  and  defence  among  those  whose  different 
totems  are  recognized  marks  of  different  bloods ; yet  where 
there  has  been  established  descent  through  males,  and 
especially  where  monogamy  prevails,  sameness  of  blood 
becomes  largely,  if  not  mainly,  influential  in  determining 
political  cooperation.  And  this  truth,  under  one  of  its 
aspects,  is  the  truth  above  enunciated,  that  combined  action, 
requiring  a tolerable  homogeneity  of  nature  among  those  who 
carry  it  on,  is,  in  early  stages,  most  successful  among  those 
who,  being  descendants  of  the  same  ancestors,  have  the 
greatest  likeness. 

An  all-important  though  less  direct  effect  of  blood-relation- 
ship, and  especially  that  more  definite  blood-relationship 
which  arises  from  monogamic  marriage,  has  to  be  added.  J 
mean  community  of  religion — a likeness  of  ideas  and  senti- 
ments embodied  in  the  worship  of  a common  deity.  Begin- 
ning, as  this  does,  with  propitiation  of  the  deceased 
founder  of  the  family ; and  shared  in,  as  it  is,  by  the  multi- 
plying groups  of  descendants,  as  the  family  spreads ; it 
becomes  a further  means  of  holding  together  the  compound 
cluster  gradually  formed,  and  checking  the  antagonisms  that 
arise  between  the  component  clusters : so  favouring  integra- 
tion. The  influence  of  the  bond  supplied  by  a common  cult 
everywhere  meets  us  in  ancient  history.  Each  of  the  cities 
in  primitive  Egypt  was  a centre  for  the  worship  of  a special 
divinity ; and  no  one  who,  unbiassed  by  foregone  conclusions, 
observes  the  extraordinary  development  of  ancestor-worship, 
under  all  its  forms,  in  Egypt,  can  doubt  the  origin  of  this 
divinity.  Of  the  Greeks  we  read  that — 

“Each  family  had  its  own  sacred  rites  and  funereal  commemoration 
of  ancestors,  celebrated  by  the  master  of  the  house,  to  which  none  hut 
members  of  the  family  were  admissible  : the  extinction  of  a family, 


276 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTION'S, 


carrying  with  it  the  suspension  of  these  religious  rites,  was  held  by  the 
Greeks  to  be  a misfortune,  not  merely  from  the  loss  of  the  citizens 
composing  it,  but  also  because  the  family  gods  and  the  manes  of 
deceased  citizens  were  thus  deprived  of  their  honours  and  might  visit 
the  country  with  displeasure.  The  larger  associations,  called  Gens, 
Phratry,  Tribe,  were  formed  by  an  extension  of  the  same  principle — 
of  the  family  considered  as  a religious  brotherhood,  worshipping  some 
common  god  or  hero  with  an  appropriate  surname,  and  recognizing  him 
as  their  joint  ancestor.” 

A like  bond  was  generated  in  a like  manner  in  the  Roman 
community.  Each  curia,  which  was  the  homologue  of  the 
phratry,  had  a head,  “ whose  chief  function  was  to  preside 
over  the  sacrifices.”  And,  on  a larger  scale,  the  same  thing 
held  with  the  entire  society.  The  primitive  Roman  king  was 
a priest  of  the  deities  common  to  all : “ he  held  intercourse 
with  the  gods  of  the  community,  whom  he  consulted  and 
whom  he  appeased.”  The  beginnings  of  this  religious  bond, 
here  exhibited  in  a developed  form,  are  still  traceable  in 
India.  Sir  Henry  Maine  says,  “ the  joint  family  of  the 
Hindoos  is  that  assemblage  of  persons  who  would  have 
joined  in  the  sacrifices  at  the  funeral  of  some  common 
ancestor  if  he  had  died  in  their  lifetime.”  So  that  political 
integration,  while  furthered  by  that  likeness  of  nature  which 
identity  of  descent  involves,  is  again  furthered  by  that  like- 
ness of  religion  simultaneously  arising  from  this  identity  of 
descent. 

Thus  is  it,  too,  at  a later  stage,  with  that  less-pronounced 
likeness  of  nature  characterizing  men  of  the  same  race  who 
have  multiplied  and  spread  in  such  ways  as  to  form  adjacent 
small  societies.  Cooperation  among  them  continues  to  be 
furthered,  though  less  effectually,  by  the  community  of  their 
natures,  by  the  community  of  their  traditions,  ideas,  and 
sentiments,  as  well  as  by  their  community  of  speech.  Among 
men  of  diverse  types,  concert  is  necessarily  hindered 
both  by  ignorance  of  one  another’s  words,  and  by  unlike- 
nesses of  thought  and  feeling.  It  needs  but  to  remember 
how  often,  even  among  those  of  the  same  family,  quarrels 
arise  from  misinterpretations  of  things  said,  to  see  what 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION-. 


277 


fertile  sources  of  confusion  and  antagonism  must  be  the 
partial  or  complete  differences  of  language  which  habitually 
accompany  differences  of  race.  Similarly,  those  who  are 
widely  unlike  in  their  emotional  natures  or  in  their  intellec- 
tual natures,  perplex  one  another  by  unexpected  conduct — a 
fact  on  which  travellers  habitually  remark.  Hence  a further 
obstacle  to  combined  action.  Diversities  of  custom,  too, 
become  causes  of  dissension.  Where  a food  eaten  by  one 
people  is  regarded  by  another  with  disgust,  where  an  animal 
held  sacred  by  the  one  is  by  the  other  treated  with  contempt, 
where  a salute  which  the  one  expects  is  never  made  by  the 
other,  there  must  be  continually  generated  alienations  which 
hinder  joint  efforts.  Other  things  equal,  facility  of  coopera- 
tion will  be  proportionate  to  the  amount  of  fellow  fueling ; 
and  fellow  feeling  is  prevented  by  whatever  prevents  men 
from  behaving  in  the  same  ways  under  the  same  conditions. 
The  working  together  of  the  original  and  derived  factors 
above  enumerated,  is  well  exhibited  in  the  following  passage 
from  Grote : — 

“The  Hellens  were  all  of  common  blood  and  parentage,  were  ail 
descendants  of  the  common  patriarch  Hellen.  In  treating  of  the  his- 
torical Greeks,  we  have  to  accept  this  as  a datum  ; it  represents  the 
sentiment  under  the  influence  of  which  they  moved  and  acted.  It  is 
placed  by  Herodotus  in  the  front  rank,  as  the  chief  of  those  four  ties 
which  bound  together  the  Hellenic  aggregate  : 1.  Fellowship  of  blood  ; 
2.  Fellowship  of  language  ; 3.  Fixed  domiciles  of  gods,  and  sacrifices 
common  to  all ; 4.  Like  manners  and  dispositions.” 

Influential  as  we  thus  find  to  be  the  likeness  of  nature 
which  is  insured  by  common  descent,  the  implication  is  that, 
in  the  absence  of  considerable  likeness,  the  political  aggre- 
gates formed  are  unstable,  and  can  be  maintained  only  by  a 
coercion  which,  some  time  or  other,  is  sure  to  fail.  Though 
other  causes  have  conspired,  yet  this  has  doubtless  been  a 
main  cause  of  the  dissolution  of  great  empires  in  past  ages. 
At  the  present  time  the  decay  of  the  Turkish  Empire  is 
largely,  if  not  chiefly,  ascribable  to  it.  Our  own  Indian 
‘Empire  too,  held  together  by  force  in  a state  of  artificial 


278  POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 

equilibrium,  threatens  some  day  to  illustrate  by  its  fall  the 
incohesion  arising  from  lack  of  congruity  in  components. 

§ 451.  One  of  the  laws  of  evolution  at  large,  is  that  inte- 
gration results  when  like  units  are  subject  to  the  same  force 
or  to  like  forces  (First  Principles , § 169)  ; and  from  the  first 
stages  of  political  integration  up  to  the  last,  we  find  this  law 
illustrated.  Joint  exposure  to  uniform  external  actions,  and 
joint  reactions  against  them,  have  from  the  beginning  been 
the  leading  causes  of  union  among  members  of  societies. 

Already  in  § 250  there  has  been  indirectly  implied  the 
truth  that  coherence  is  first  given  to  small  hordes  of  primitive 
men  during  combined  opposition  to  enemies.  Subject  to  the 
same  danger,  and  joining  to  meet  this  danger,  the  members  of 
the  horde  become,  in  the  course  of  their  cooperation  against 
it,  more  bound  together.  In  the  first  stages  this  relation  of 
cause  and  effect  is  clearly  seen  in  the  fact  that  such  union  as 
arises  during  a war,  disappears  when  the  war  is  over : there 
is  loss  of  all  such  slight  political  combination  as  was  begin- 
ning to  show  itself.  But  it  is  by  the  integration  of  simple 
groups  into  compound  groups  in  the  course  of  common  re- 
sistance to  foes,  and  attacks  upon  them,  that  this  process  is 
best  exemplified.  The  cases  before  given  may  be  reinforced 
by  others.  Of  the  Karens,  Mason  says: — “Each  village, 
being  an  independent  community,  had  always  an  old  feud  to 
settle  with  nearly  every  other  village  among  their  own  people. 
But  the  common  danger  from  more  powerful  enemies,  or 
having  common  injuries  to  requite,  often  led  to  several  villages 
uniting  together  for  defence  or  attack  ” According  to  Kolben, 
“ smaller  nations  of  Hottentots,  which  may  be  near  some 
powerful  nation,  frequently  enter  into  an  alliance,  offensive 
and  defensive,  against  the  stronger  nation.”  Among  the  New 
Caledonians  of  Tanna,  “ six,  or  eight,  or  more  of  their  villages 
unite,  and  form  what  may  be  called  a district,  or  county,  and 

all  league  together  for  mutual  protection In  war 

two  or  more  of  these  districts  unite.”  Samoan  “ villages,  in 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


279 


numbers  of  eight  or  ten,  unite  by  common  consent,  and  form 
a district  or  state  for  mutual  protection  f and  during  hosti- 
lities these  districts  themselves  sometimes  unite  in  twos  and 
threes.  The  like  has  happened  with  historic  peoples. 

It  was  during  the  wars  of  the  Israelites  in  David’s  time,  that 
they  passed  from  the  state  of  separate  tribes  into  the  state  of 
a consolidated  ruling  nation.  The  scattered  Greek  communi- 
ties, previously  aggregated  into  minor  confederacies  by  minor 
wars,  were  prompted  to  the  Pan-Hellenic  congress  and  to  the 
subsequent  cooperation,  when  the  invasion  of  Xerxes  was 
impending ; and  of  the  Spartan  and  Athenian  confederacies 
afterwards  formed,  that  of  Athens  acquired  the  hegemony, 
and  finally  the  empire,  during  continued  operations  against 
the  Persians.  So,  too,  was  it  with  the  Teutonic  races. 

The  German  tribes,  originally  without  federal  bonds,  formed 
occasional  alliances  for  opposing  enemies.  Between  the 
first  and  fifth  centuries  these  tribes  massed  themselves  into 
great  groups  for  resistance  against,  or  attack  upon,  Rome. 
During  the  subsequent  century  the  prolonged  military  con- 
federations of  peoples  “ of  the  same  blood  ” had  grown  into 
States,  which  afterwards  became  aggregated  into  still  larger 
States.  And,  to  take  a comparatively  modern  instance,  the 
wars  between  France  and  England  aided  each  in  passing 
from  that  condition  in  which  its  feudal  divisions  were  in 
considerable  degrees  independent,  to  the  condition  of  a con- 
solidated nation.  As  further  showing  how  integration 

of  smaller  societies  into  larger  ones  is  thus  initiated,  it  may 
be  added  that  at  first  the  unions  exist  only  for  military  pur- 
poses. Each  component  society  retains  for  a long  time  its 
independent  internal  administration ; and  it  is  only  when 
joint  action  in  war  has  become  habitual,  that  the  cohesion  is 
made  permanent  by  a common  political  organization. 

This  compounding  of  smaller  communities  into  larger  by 
military  cooperation,  is  insured  by  the  disappearance  of  such 
smaller  communities  as  do  not  cooperate.  Barth  remarks 
that  “the  Fiilbe  [Fulahs]  are  continually  advancing,  as  they 


280 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


have  not  to  do  with  one  strong  enemy,  but  with  a number  of 
small  tribes  without  any  bond  of  union.”  Of  the  Damaras, 
Galton  says — “ If  one  werft  is  plundered,  the  adjacent  ones 
rarely  rise  to  defend  it,  and  thus  the  Namaquas  have  de- 
stroyed or  enslaved  piecemeal  about  one-half  of  the  whole 
Damara  population.”  Similarly  with  the  Ynca  conquests  in 
Peru : “ there  was  no  general  opposition  to  their  advance, 
for  each  province  merely  defended  its  land  without  aid  from 
any  other.”  This  process,  so  obvious  and  familiar,  I name 
because  it  has  a meaning  which  needs  emphasizing.  For  we 
here  see  that  in  the  struggle  for  existence  among  societies, 
the  survival  of  the  fittest  is  the  survival  of  those  in  which 
the  power  of  military  cooperation  is  the  greatest ; and  mili- 
tary cooperation  is  that  primary  kind  of  cooperation  which 
prepares  the  way  for  other  kinds.  So  that  this  formation  of 
larger  societies  by  the  union  of  smaller  ones  in  war,  and  this 
destruction  or  absorption  of  the  smaller  un-united  societies  by 
the  united  larger  ones,  is  an  inevitable  process  through  which 
the  varieties  of  men  most  adapted  for  social  life,  supplant  the 
less  adapted  varieties. 

Respecting  the  integration  thus  effected,  it  remains  only  to 
remark  that  it  necessarily  follows  this  course — necessarily 
begins  with  the  formation  of  simple  groups  and  advances  by 
the  compounding  and  re-compounding  of  them.  Impulsive 
in  conduct  and  with  rudimentary  powers  of  concerted  action, 
savages  cohere  so  slightly  that  only  small  bodies  of  them 
can  maintain  their  integrity.  Not  until  such  small  bodies 
have  severally  had  their  members  bound  to  one  another  by 
some  slight  political  organization,  does  it  become  possible  to 
unite  them  into  larger  bodies;  since  the  cohesion  of  these 
implies  greater  fitness  for  concerted  action,  and  more  de- 
veloped organization  for  achieving  it.  And  similarly,  these 
composite  clusters  must  be  to  some  extent  consolidated  before 
the  composition  can  be  carried  a stage  further.  Pass- 

ing over  the  multitudinous  illustrations  occurring  among  the 
uncivilized,  it  will  suffice  if  I refer  to  those  given  in  § 226, 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


281 


and  reinforce  them  by  some  which  historic  peoples  have 
supplied.  There  is  the  fact  that  in  primitive  Egypt,  the 
numerous  small  societies  (which  eventually  became  the 
“ nomes  ”)  first  united  into  the  two  aggregates,  Upper  Egypt 
and  Lower  Egypt,  which  were  afterwards  joined  into  one ; 
and  the  fact  that  in  ancient  Greece,  villages  became  united  to 
form  towns  before  the  towns  became  united  into  states,  while 
this  change  preceded  the  change  which  united  the  states  with 
one  another ; and  the  fact  that  in  the  old  English  period, 
small  principalities  were  massed  into  the  divisions  constitut- 
ing the  Heptarchy,  before  these  passed  into  something  like  a 
whole.  It  is  a principle  in  physics  that,  since  the 

force  with  which  a body  resists  strains  increases  as  the  squares 
of  its  dimensions,  while  the  strains  which  its  own  weight 
subject  it  to  increase  as  the  cubes  of  its  dimensions,  its  power 
of  maintaining  its  integrity  becomes  relatively  less  as  its 
mass  becomes  greater.  Something  analogous  may  be  said  of 
societies.  Small  aggregates  only  can  hold  together  while 
cohesion  is  feeble ; and  successively  larger  aggregates  become 
possible  only  as  the  greater  strains  implied  are  met  by  that 
greater  cohesion  which  results  from  an  adapted  human  nature 
and  a resulting  development  of  social  organization. 

§ 452.  As  social  integration  advances,  the  increasing  aggre- 
gates exercise  increasing  restraints  over  their  units — a truth 
which  is  the  obverse  of  the  one  just  set  forth,  that  the  main- 
tenance of  its  integrity  by  a larger  aggregate  implies  greater 
cohesion.  The  forces  by  which  aggregates  keep  their  units  , 
together  are  at  first  feeble ; and  becoming  strenuous  at  a 
certain  stage  of  social  evolution  afterwards  relax — or  rather, 
change  their  forms. 

Originally  the  individual  savage  gravitates  to  one  group  or 
other,  prompted  by  sundry  motives,  but  mainly  by  the  desire 
for  protection.  Concerning  the  Patagonians,  we  read  that  no 
one  can  live  apart : “ if  any  of  them  attempted  to  do  it,  they 
would  undoubtedly  be  killed,  or  carried  away  as  slaves,  as 


282 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


soon  as  they  were  discovered.”  In  North  America,  among 
the  Chinooks,  “ on  the  coast  a custom  prevails  which  autho- 
rizes the  seizure  and  enslavement,  unless  ransomed  by  his 
friends,  of  every  Indian  met  with  at  a distance  from  his 
tribe,  although  they  may  not  be  at  war  with  each  other.”  At 
first,  however,  though  it  is  necessary  to  join  some  group,  it  is 
not  necessary  to  continue  in  the  same  group.  When  oppressed 
by  their  chief,  Kalmucks  and  Mongols  desert  him  and  go  over 
to  other  chiefs.  Of  the  Abipones  Dobrizhoffer  says  : — “ With- 
out leave  asked  on  their  part,  or  displeasure  evinced  on  his, 
they  remove  with  their  families  whithersoever  it  suits  them, 
and  join  some  other  cacique  ; and  when  tired  of  the  second, 
return  with  impunity  to  the  horde  of  the  first.”  Similarly  in 
South  Africa,  “ the  frequent  instances  which  occur  [among 
the  Balonda]  of  people  changing  from  one  part  of  the  country 
to  another,  show  that  the  great  chiefs  possess  only  a limited 
power.”  And  how,  through  this  process,  some  tribes  grow 
while  others  dwindle,  we  are  shown  by  M‘Culloch’s  remark 
respecting  the  Kukis,  that  “ a village,  having  around  it  plenty 
of  land  suited  for  cultivation  and  a popular  chief,  is  sure 
soon,  by  accessions  from  less  favoured  ones,  to  become  large.” 

With  the  need  which  the  individual  has  for  protection,  is 
joined  the  desire  of  the  tribe  to  strengthen  itself;  and  the 
practice  of  adoption,  hence  resulting,  constitutes  another 
mode  of  integration.  Where,  as  in  tribes  of  North  American 
Indians,  “ adoption  or  the  torture  were  the  alternative 
chances  of  a captive”  (adoption  being  the  fate  of  one  admired 
for  his  bravery),  we  see  re-illustrated  the  tendency  which 
each  society  has  to  grow  at  the  expense  of  other  societies. 
That  desire  for  many  actual  children  whereby  the  family 
may  be  strengthened,  which  Hebrew  traditions  show  us, 
readily  passes  into  the  desire  for  factitious  children — here 
made  one  with  the  brotherhood  by  exchange  of  blood,  and 
there  by  mock  birth.  As  was  implied  in  § 319,  it  is  probable 
that  the  practice  of  adoption  into  families  among  Greeks  and 
Romans,  arose  during  those  early  times  when  the  wandering 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


283 


patriarchal  group  constituted  the  tribe,  and  when  the  wish 
of  the  tribe  to  strengthen  itself  was  dominant ; though  it  was 
doubtless  afterwards  maintained  chiefly  by  the  wish  to  have 
someone  to  continue  the  sacrifices  to  ancestors.  And,  indeed, 
on  remembering  that,  long  after  larger  societies  were  formed 
by  unions  of  patriarchal  groups,  there  continued  to  be  feuds 
between  the  component  families  and  clans,  we  may  see  that 
there  had  never  ceased  to  operate  on  such  families  and  clans, 
the  primitive  motive  for  strengthening  themselves  by  increas- 
ing their  numbers. 

Kindred  motives  produced  kindred  results  wdthin  more 
modern  societies,  during  times  when  their  parts  were  so  im- 
perfectly integrated  that  there  remained  antagonisms  among 
them.  Thus  we  have  the  fact  that  in  mediaeval  England, 
while  local  rule  was  incompletely  subordinated  to  general 
rule,  every  free  man  had  to  attach  himself  to  a lord,  a burgh, 
or  a guild : being  otherwise  “ a friendless  man,”  and  in  a 
danger  like  that  which  the  savage  is  in  when  not  belonging 
to  a tribe.  And  then,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  law  that 
“ if  a bondsman  continued  a year  and  a day  within  a free 
burgh  or  municipality,  no  lord  could  reclaim  him,”  we  may 
recognize  an  effect  of  a desire  on  the  part  of  industrial  groups 
to  strengthen  themselves  against  the  feudal  groups  around — 
an  effect  analogous  to  that  of  adoption,  here  into  the  savage 
tribe  and  there  into  the  family  as  it  existed  in  more  ancient 
societies.  Naturally,  as  a whole  nation  becomes  more  in- 
tegrated, local  integrations  lose  their  separateness,  and  their 
divisions  fade ; though  they  long  leave  their  traces,  as  among 
ourselves  in  the  law  of  settlement,  and  as,  up  to  1824,  in  the 
laws  affecting  the  freedom  of  travelling  of  artisans. 

These  last  illustrations  introduce  us  to  the  truth  that  while 
at  first  there  is  little  cohesion  and  great  mobility  of  the  units 
forming  a group,  advance  in  integration  is  habitually  accom- 
panied not  only  by  decreasing  ability  to  go  from  group  to 
group,  but  also  by  decreasing  ability  to  go  from  place  to 
place  within  the  group.  Of  course  the  transition  from  the 


284 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


nomadic  to  the  settled  state  partially  implies  this ; since 
each  person  becomes  in  a considerable  degree  tied  by  his 
material  interests.  Slavery,  too,  effects  in  another  way  this 
binding  of  individuals  to  locally-placed  members  of  the 
society,  and  therefore  to  particular  parts  to  it ; and,  where 
serfdom  exists,  the  same  thing  is  shown  with  a difference. 
But  in  highly-integrated  societies,  not  simply  those  in 
bondage,  but  others  also,  are  tied  to  their  localities.  Of  the 
ancient  Mexicans,  Zurita  says  : — “ The  Indians  never  changed 
their  village  nor  even  their  quarter.  This  custom  was 
observed  as  a law.”  In  ancient  Peru,  “ it  was  not  lawful  for 
any  one  to  remove  from  one  province,  or  village,  to  another ; ” 
and  “ any  who  travelled  without  just  cause  were  punished  as 
vagabonds.”  Elsewhere,  along  with  that  development  of  the 
militant  type  accompanying  aggregation,  there  have  been 
imposed  restraints  on  transit  under  other  forms.  Ancient 
Egypt  had  a system  of  registration  ; and  all  citizens  periodi- 
cally reported  themselves  to  local  officers.  “ Every  Japanese 
is  registered,  and  whenever  he  removes  his  residence,  the 
Nanushi,  or  head  man  of  the  temple  gives  a certificate.” 
And  then,  in  despotically-governed  European  countries  we 
have  passports-systems,  hindering  the  journeys  of  citizens 
from  place  to  place,  and  in  some  cases  preventing  them  from 
going  abroad. 

In  these,  as  in  other  respects,  however,  the  restraints  which 
the  social  aggregate  exercises  over  its  units,  decrease  as  the 
industrial  type  begins  greatly  to  qualify  the  militant  type ; 
partly  because  the  societies  characterized  by  industralism  are 
amply  populous,  and  have  superfluous  members  to  fill  the 
places  of  those  who  leave  them,  and  partly  because,  in  the 
absence  of  the  oppressions  accompanying  a militant  regime , a 
sufficient  cohesion  results  from  pecuniary  interests,  family 
bonds,  and  love  of  country. 

§ 453.  Thus,  saying  nothing  for  the  present  of  that  political 
evolution  manifested  by  increase  of  structure,  and  restricting 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


285 


ourselves  to  that  political  evolution  manifested  by  increase  of 
mass,  here  distinguished  as  political  integration,  we  find  that 
this  has  the  following  traits. 

While  the  aggregates  are  small,  the  incorporation  of 
materials  for  growth  is  carried  on  at  one  another’s  expense  in 
feeble  ways — by  taking  one  another’s  game,  by  robbing  one 
another  of  women,  and,  occasionally  by  adopting  one  another’s 
men.  As  larger  aggregates  are  formed,  incorporations  pro- 
ceed in  more  wholesale  ways  ; first  by  enslaving  the  separate 
members  of  conquered  tribes,  and  presently  by  the  bodily 
annexation  of  such  tribes,  with  their  territory.  And  as  com- 
pound aggregates  pass  into  doubly  and  trebly  compound 
ones,  there  arise  increasing  desires  to  absorb  adjacent  smaller 
societies,  and  so  to  form  still  larger  aggregates. 

Conditions  of  several  kinds  further  or  hinder  social  growth 
and  consolidation.  The  habitat  may  be  fitted  or  unfitted  for 
supporting  a large  population ; or  it  may,  by  great  or  small 
facilities  for  intercourse  within  its  area,  favour  or  impede  co- 
operation ; or  it  may,  by  presence  or  absence  of  natural 
barriers,  make  easy  or  difficult  the  keeping  together  of  the 
individuals  under  that  coercion  which  is  at  first  needful. 
And,  as  the  antecedents  of  the  race  determine,  the  indi- 
viduals may  have  in  greater  or  less  degrees  the  physical, 
the  emotional,  and  the  intellectual  natures  fitting  them  for 
combined  action. 

While  the  extent  to  which  social  integration  can  in  each 
case  be  carried,  depends  in  part  on  these  conditions,  it  also 
depends  in  part  upon  the  degree  of  likeness  among  the  units. 
At  first,  while  the  nature  is  so  little  moulded  to  social  life 
that  cohesion  is  small,  aggregation  is  largely  dependent  on 
ties  of  blood  : implying  great  degrees  of  likeness.  Groups  in 
which  such  ties,  and  the  resulting  congruity,  are  most 
marked,  and  which,  having  family  traditions  in  common,  a 
common  male  ancestor,  and  a joint  worship  of  him,  are  in 
these  further  ways  made  alike  in  ideas  and  sentiments,  are 
groups  in  which  the  greatest  social  cohesion  and  power  of  co- 


286 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


operation  arise.  For  a long  time  the  clans  and  tribes  de- 
scending from  such  primitive  patriarchal  groups,  have  their 
political  concert  facilitated  by  this  bond  of  relationship  and 
the  likeness  it  involves.  Only  after  adaptation  to  social  life 
lias  made  considerable  progress,  does  harmonious  cooperation 
among  those  who  are  not  of  the  same  stock  become  practi- 
cable ; and  even  then  their  unlikenesses  of  nature  must  be 
small.  Where  their  unlikenesses  of  nature  are  great,  the 
society,  held  together  only  by  force,  tends  to  disintegrate 
when  the  force  fails. 

Likeness  in  the  units  forming  a social  group  being  one 
condition  to  their  integration,  a further  condition  is  their 
joint  reaction  against  external  action : cooperation  in  war  is 
the  chief  cause  of  social  integration.  The  temporary  unions 
of  savages  for  offence  and  defence,  show  us  the  initiatory 
step.  When  many  tribes  unite  against  a common  enemy, 
long  continuance  of  their  combined  action  makes  them 
coherent  under  some  common  control.  And  so  it  is  subse- 
quently with  still  larger  aggregates. 

Progress  in  social  integration  is  both  a cause  and  a con- 
sequence of  a decreasing  separableness  among  the  units. 
Primitive  wandering  hordes  exercise  no  such  restraints  over 
their  members  as  prevent  them  individually  from  leaving  one 
horde  and  joining  another  at  will.  Where  tribes  are  more 
developed,  desertion  of  one  and  admission  into  another  are 
less  easy — the  assemblages  are  not  so  loose  in  composition. 
And  throughout  those  long  stages  during  which  societies  are 
being  enlarged  and  consolidated  by  militancy,  the  mobility  of 
the  units  becomes  more  and  more  restricted.  Only  with  that 
substitution  of  voluntary  cooperation  for  compulsory  co- 
operation which  characterizes  developing  industrialism,  do 
the  restrictions  on  movement  disappear : enforced  union 
being  in  such  societies  adequately  replaced  by  spontaneous 
union. 

A remaining  truth  to  be  named  is  that  political  integration, 
as  it  advances,  obliterates  the  original  divisions  among  the 


POLITICAL  INTEGRATION. 


287 


united  parts.  In  the  first  place  there  is  the  slow  disappear- 
ance of  those  non-topographical  divisions  arising  from  rela- 
tionship, as  seen  in  separate  gentes  and  tribes : gradual  inter- 
mingling destroys  them.  In  the  second  place,  the  smaller 
local  societies  united  into  a larger  one,  which  at  first  retain 
their  separate  organizations,  lose  them  by  long  cooperation  : 
a common  organization  begins  to  ramify  through  them.  And 
in  the  third  place,  there  simultaneously  results  a fading  of 
their  topographical  bounds,  and  a replacing  of  these  by 
the  new  administrative  bounds  of  the  common  organiza- 
tion. Hence  naturally  results  the  converse  truth, 

that  in  the  course  of  social  dissolution  the  great  groups 
separate  first,  and  afterwards,  if  dissolution  continues,  these 
separate  into  their  component  smaller  groups.  Instance  the 
ancient  empires  successively  formed  in  the  East,  the  united 
kingdoms  of  which  severally  resumed  their  autonomies  when 
the  coercion  keeping  them  together  ceased.  Instance,  again, 
the  Carolingian  empire,  which,  first  parting  into  its  large 
divisions,  became  in  course  of  time  further  disintegrated  by 
subdivision  of  these.  And  where,  as  in  this  last  case,  the 
process  of  dissolution  goes  very  far,  there  is  a return  to  some- 
thing like  the  primitive  condition,  under  which  small  preda- 
tory societies  are  engaged  in  continuous  warfare  with  like 
small  societies  around  them. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION 

§ 454.  As  was  pointed  out  in  First  Principles , § 154,  it  is 
true  of  a social  aggregate,  as  of  every  other  aggregate,  that 
the  state  of  homogeneity  is  an  unstable  state;  and  that 
where  there  is  already  some  heterogeneity,  the  tendency  is 
towards  greater  heterogeneity. 

Lapse  from  homogeneity,  however,  or  rather,  the  increase 
of  such  heterogeneity  as  usually  exists,  requires  that  the 
parts  shall  be  heterogeneously  conditioned;  and  whatever 
prevents  the  rise  of  contrasts  among  the  conditions,  prevents 
increase  of  heterogeneity.  One  of  the  implications  is  that 
there  must  not  be  continual  changes  in  the  distribution  of 
the  parts.  If  now  one  part  and  now  another,  occupies  the 
same  position  in  relation  to  the  whole,  permanent  structural 
differences  cannot  be  produced.  There  must  be  such  cohesion 
among  the  parts  as  prevents  easy  transposition. 

We  see  this  truth  exemplified  in  the  simplest  individual 
organisms.  A low  Rhizopod,  of  which  the  substance  has  a 
mobility  approaching  to  that  of  a liquid,  remains  almost 
homogeneous  ; because  each  part  is  from  moment  to  moment 
assuming  new  relations  to  other  parts  and  to  the  environ- 
ment. And  the  like  holds  with  the  simplest  societies. 
Concerning  the  members  of  the  small  unsettled  groups  of 
Fuegians,  Cook  remarks  that  “ none  wras  more  respected  than 
another.”  The  Veddahs,  the  Andamanese,  the  Australians, 
the  Tasmanians,  may  also  be  instanced  as  loose  assemblages 


•POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


289 


which  present  no  permanent  unlikenesses  of  social  position ; 
or  if  unlikeness  exist,  as  some  travellers  allege,  they  are  so 
vague  that  they  are  denied  by  others.  And  in  such  wander- 
ing hordes  as  the  Coroados  of  South  America,  formed  of 
individuals  held  together  so  feebly  that  they  severally  join 
one  or  other  horde  at  will,  the  distinctions  of  parts  are  but 
nominal. 

Conversely,  it  is  to  be  anticipated  that  where  the  several 
parts  of  a social  aggregate  are  heterogeneously  conditioned  in 
a permanent  way,  they  will  become  proportionately  hetero- 
geneous. We  shall  see  this  more  clearly  on  changing  the 
point  of  view. 

§ 455.  The  general  law  that  like  units  exposed  to  like 
forces  tend  to  integrate,  was  in  the  last  chapter  exemplified 
by  the  formation  of  social  groups.  Here  the  correlative 
general  law,  that  in  proportion  as  the  like  units  of  an  aggregate 
are  exposed  to  unlike  forces  they  tend  to  form  differentiated 
parts  of  the  aggregate,  has  to  be  observed  in  its  application  to 
such  groups,  as  the  second  step  in  social  evolution. 

The  primary  political  differentiation  originates  from  the 
primary  family  differentiation.  Men  and  women  being  by 
the  unlikenesses  of  their  functions  in  life,  exposed  to  unlike 
influences,  begin  from  the  first  to  assume  unlike  positions  in 
the  community  as  they  do  in  the  family  : very  early  they 
respectively  form  the  two  political  classes  of  rulers  and 
ruled.  And  how  truly  such  dissimilarity  of  social  positions 
as  arises  between  them,  is  caused  by  dissimilarity  in  their 
relations  to  surrounding  actions,  we  shall  see  on  observing 
that  the  one  is  small  or  great  according  as  the  other  is  small 
or  great.  When  treating  of  the  status  of  women,  it  w7as 
pointed  out  that  to  a considerable  degree  among  the  Chippe- 
wayans,  and  to  a still  greater  degree  among  the  Clatsops  and 
Chinooks,  “ who  live  upon  fish  and  roots,  which  the  women 
are  equally  expert  with  the  men  in  procuring,  the  former  have 
a rank  and  influence  very  rarely  found  among  Indians.”  We 


290 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


saw  also  that  in  Cueba,  where  the  women  join  the  men  in 
war,  “ fighting  by  their  side,”  their  position  is  much  higher 
than  usual  among  rude  peoples;  and,  similarly,  that  in 
Dahomey,  where  the  women  are  as  much  warriors  as  the  men, 
they  are  so  regarded  that,  in  the  political  organization,  “ the 
woman  is  officially  superior.”  On  contrasting  these  excep- 
tional cases  with  the  ordinary  cases,  in  which  the  men,  solely 
occupied  in  war  and  the  chase,  have  unlimited  authority, 
while  the  women,  occupied  in  gathering  miscellaneous  small 
food  and  carrying  burdens,  are  abject  slaves,  it  becomes  clear 
that  diversity  of  relations  to  surrounding  actions  initiates 
diversity  of  social  relations.  And,  as  we  saw  in  § 327,  this 
truth  is  further  illustrated  by  those  few  uncivilized  societies 
which  are  habitually  peaceful,  such  as  the  Bodo  and  the 
Dhimals  of  the  Indian  hills,  and  the  ancient  Pueblos  of  North 
America — societies  in  which  the  occupations  are  not,  or  were 
not,  broadly  divided  into  fighting  and  working,  and  severally 
assigned  to  the  two  sexes ; and  in  which,  along  with  a com- 
paratively small  difference  between  the  activities  of  the  sexes, 
there  goes,  or  went,  small  difference  of  social  status. 

So  is  it  when  we  pass  from  the  greater  or  less  political 
differentiation  which  accompanies  difference  of  sex,  to  that 
which  is  independent  of  sex — to  that  which  arises  among 
men.  Where  the  life  is  permanently  peaceful,  definite  class- 
divisions  do  not  exist.  One  of  the  Indian  Hill-tribes  to 
which  I have  already  referred  as  exhibiting  the  honesty, 
truthfulness,  and  amiability,  accompanying  a purely  indus- 
trial life,  may  be  instanced.  Hodgson  says,  “ all  Bodo  and 
all  Dhimals  are  equal — absolutely  so  in  right  or  law — * 
wonderfully  so  in  fact.”  The  like  is  said  of  another  unwar- 
like  and  amiable  hill  tribe : “ the  Lepchas  have  no  caste  dis- 
tinctions.” And  among  a different  race,  the  Papuans,  may 
be  named  the  peaceful  Arafuras  as  displaying  “ brotherly 
love  with  one  another,”  and  as  having  no  divisions  of  rank. 

§ 456.  As,  at  first,  the  domestic  relation  between  the  sexes 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


291 


passes -into  a political  relation,  such  that  men  and  women 
become,  in  militant  groups,  the  ruling  class  and  the  subject 
class ; so  does  the  relation  between  master  and  slave,  origin- 
ally a domestic  one,  pass  into  a political  one  as  fast  as,  by 
habitual  war,  the  making  of  slaves  becomes  general.  It  is 
with  the  formation  of  a slave-class,  that  there  begins  that 
political  differentiation  between  the  regulating  structures  and 
the  sustaining  structures,  which  continues  throughout  all 
higher  forms  of  social  evolution. 

Kane  remarks  that  “ slavery  in  its  most  cruel  form  exists 
among  the  Indians  of  the  whole  coast  from  California  to 
Behring’s  Straits,  the  stronger  tribes  making  slaves  of  all  the 
others  they  can  conquer.  In  the  interior,  where  there  is  but 
little  warfare,  slavery  does  not  exist.”  And  this  statement 
does  but  exhibit,  in  a distinct  form,  the  truth  everywhere 
obvious.  Evidence  suggests  that  the  practice  of  enslavement 
diverged  by  small  steps  from  the  practice  of  cannibalism. 
Concerning  the  Nootkas,  we  read  that  “ slaves  are  occasion- 
ally sacrificed  and  feasted  upon and  if  we  contrast  this 
usage  wfith  the  usage  common  elsewhere,  of  killing  and 
devouring  captives  as  soon  as  they  are  taken,  we  may  infer 
that  the  keeping  of  captives  too  numerous  to  be  immediately 
eaten,  with  the  view  of  eating  them  subsequently,  leading,  as 
it  wrould,  to  the  employment  of  them  in  the  meantime,  caused 
the  discovery  that  their  services  might  be  of  more  value 
than  their  flesh,  and  so  initiated  the  habit  of  preserving 
them  as  slaves.  Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  we  find  that 
very  generally  among  tribes  to  which  habitual  militancy  has 
given  some  slight  degree  of  the  appropriate  structure,  the 
enslavement  of  prisoners  becomes  an  established  habit.  That 
women  and  children  taken  in  war,  and  such  men  as  have  not 
been  slain,  naturally  fall  into  unqualified  servitude,  is  mani- 
fest. They  belong  absolutely  to  their  captors,  who  might 
have  killed  them;  and  who  retain  the  right  afterwards  to  kill 
them  if  they  please.  They  become  property,  of  which  any 
use  whatever  may  be  made. 


292 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Tlie  acquirement  of  slaves,  which  is  at  first  an  incident  of 
war,  becomes  presently  an  object  of  war.  Of  the  Nootkas  we 
read  that  “ some  of  the  smaller  tribes  at  the  north  of  the 
island  are  practically  regarded  as  slave-breeding  tribes,  and 
are  attacked  periodically  by  stronger  tribes  ” and  the  like 
happens  among  the  Chinooks.  It  was  thus  in  ancient 
Yera  Paz,  where  periodically  they  made  “an  inroad  into 
the  enemy’s  territory  . . . and  captured  as  many  as  they 
wanted and  it  was  so  in  Honduras,  where,  in  declaring  war, 
they  gave  their  enemies  notice  “ that  they  wanted  slaves.” 
Similarly  with  various  existing  peoples.  St.  John  says  that 
“ many  of  the  Dyaks  are  more  desirous  to  obtain  slaves  than 
heads ; and  in  attacking  a village  kill  only  those  who  resist 
or  attempt  to  escape.”  And  that  in  Africa  slave-making 
wars  are  common  needs  no  proof. 

The  class-division  thus  initiated  by  war,  afterwards  main- 
tains and  strengthens  itself  in  sundry  ways.  Very  soon  there 
begins  the  custom  of  purchase.  The  Chinooks,  besides  slaves 
who  have  been  captured,  have  slaves  who  were  bought  as 
children  from  their  neighbours  ; and,  as  we  saw  when  dealing 
with  the  domestic  relations,  the  selling  of  their  children  into 
slavery  is  by  no  means  uncommon  with  savages.  Then  the 
slave-class,  thus  early  enlarged  by  purchase,  comes  afterwards 
to  be  otherwise  enlarged.  There  is  voluntary  acceptance  of 
slavery  for  the  sake  of  protection ; there  is  enslavement  for 
debt ; there  is  enslavement  for  crime. 

Leaving  details,  we  need  here  note  only  that  this  political 
differentiation  which  war  begins,  is  effected,  not  by  the  bodily 
incorporation  of  other  societies,  or  whole  classes  belonging  to 
other  societies,  but  by  the  incorporation  of  single  members 
of  other  societies,  and  by  like  individual  accretions.  Com- 
posed of  units  who  are  detached  from  their  original  social 
relations  and  from  one  another,  and  absolutely  attached  to 
their  owners,  the  slave-class  is,  at  first,  but  indistinctly 
separated  as  a social  stratum.  It  acquires  separateness  only 
as  fast  as  there  arise  some  restrictions  on  the  powers  of  the 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


293 


owners.  Ceasing  to  stand  in  the  position  of  domestic  cattle, 
slaves  begin  to  form  a division  of  the  body  politic  when  their 
personal  claims  begin  to  be  distinguished  as  limiting  the 
claims  of  their  masters. 

§ 457.  It  is  commonly  supposed  that  serfdom  arises  by 
mitigation  of  slavery ; but  examination  of  the  facts  shows  that 
it  arises  in  a different  way.  While,  during  the  early  struggles 
for  existence  between  them,  primitive  tribes,  growing  at  one 
another’s  expense  by  incorporating  separately  the  individuals 
they  capture,  thus  form  a class  of  absolute  slaves,  the  formation 
of  a servile  class  considerably  higher,  and  having  a distinct 
social  status,  accompanies  that  later  and  larger  process  of 
growth  under  which  one  society  incorporates  other  societies 
bodily.  Serfdom  originates  along  with  conquest  and  annexa- 
tion. 

For  whereas  the  one  implies  that  the  captured  people  are 
detached  from  their  homes,  the  other  implies  that  the  subju- 
gated people  continue  in  their  homes.  Thomson  remarks 
that,  “ among  the  New  Zealanders  whole  tribes  sometimes 
became  nominally  slaves  when  conquered,  although  permitted 
to  live  at  their  usual  places  of  residence,  on  condition  of 
paying  tribute,  in  food,  &c.” — a statement  which  shows  the 
origin  of  kindred  arrangements  in  allied  societies.  Of  the 
Sandwich  Islands  government  when  first  known,  described  as 
consisting  of  a king  with  turbulent  chiefs,  who  had  been  sub- 
jected in  comparatively  recent  times,  Ellis  writes: — “The 
common  people  are  generally  considered  as  attached  to  the 
soil,  and  are  transferred  with  the  land  from  one  chief  to 
another.”  Before  the  late  changes  in  Fiji,  there  were  enslaved 
districts ; and  of  their  inhabitants  we  read  that  they  had  to 
supply  the  chiefs’  houses  “ with  daily  food,  and  build  and 
keep  them  in  repair.”  Though  conquered  peoples  thus 
placed,  differ  widely  in  the  degrees  of  their  subjection  (being 
at  the  one  extreme,  as  in  Fiji,  liable  to  be  eaten  when  wanted, 
and  at  the  other  extreme  called  on  only  to  give  specified  pro- 


294 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


portions  of  produce  or  labour) ; yet  they  remain  alike  as  being 
undetached  from  their  original  places  of  residence.  That 

serfdom  in  Europe  originated  in  an  analogous  way,  there  is 
good  reason  to  believe.  In  Greece  we  have  the  case  of  Crete, 
where,  under  the  conquering  Dorians,  there  existed  a vassal 
population,  formed,  it  would  seem,  partly  of  the  aborigines 
and  partly  of  preceding  conquerors ; of  which  the  first  were 
serfs  attached  to  lands  of  the  State  and  of  individuals,  and  the 
others  had  become  tributary  landowners.  In  Sparta  the  like 
relations  were  established  by  like  causes.  There  were  the 
helots,  who  lived  on,  and  cultivated,  the  lands  of  their 
Spartan  masters,  and  the  perioeci,  who  had  probably  been, 
before  the  Dorian  invasion,  the  superior  class.  So  was  it  also 
in  the  Greek  colonies  afterwards  founded,  such  as  Syracuse, 
where  the  aborigines  became  serfs.  Similarly  in  later  times 
and  nearer  regions.  When  Gaul  was  overrun  by  the  Romans, 
and  again  when  Romanized  Gaul  was  overrun  by  the  Franks, 
there  was  little  displacement  of  the  actual  cultivators  of  the 
soil,  but  these  simply  fell  into  lower  positions : certainly 
lower  political  positions,  and  M.  Guizot  thinks  lower  indus- 
trial positions.  Our  own  country  yields  illustrations. 

“ Among  the  Scottish  Highlanders  some  entire  septs  or  clans  are 
stated  to  have  been  enslaved  to  others  ; and  on  the  very  threshold  of 
Irish  history  we  meet  with  a distinction  between  free  and  rent-paying 
tribes,  which  may  possibly  imply  the  same  kind  of  superiority  and  sub- 
ordination.” 

In  ancient  British  times,  writes  Pearson,  “ it  is  probable  that, 
in  parts  at  least,  there  were  servile  villages,  occupied  by  a 
kindred  but  conquered  race,  the  first  occupants  of  the  soil.” 
More  trustworthy  is  the  evidence  which  comes  to  us  from 
old  English  days  and  Norman  days.  Professor  Stubbs  says — 
“ The  ceorl  had  his  right  in  the  common  land  of  his  township  ; his  Latin 
name,  villanus,  had  been  a symbol  of  freedom,  but  his  privileges  were 
bound  to  the  land,  and  when  the  Norman  lord  took  the  land  he  took 
the  villein  with  it.  Still  the  villein  retained  his  customary  rights,  his 
house  and  land  and  rights  of  wood  and  hay  ; his  lord’s  demesne  depended 
for  cultivation  on  his  services,  and  he  had  in  his  lord’s  sense  of  self- 
interest  the  sort  of  protection  that  was  shared  by  the  horse  aud  the  ox.” 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


285 


And  of  kindred  import  is  the  following  passage  from  Innes : — 

“ I have  said  that  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Grange,  the  lowest  in  the 
scale  was  the  ceorl,  bond , serf  \ or  villein,  who  was  transferred  like  the 
land  on  which  he  laboured,  and  who  might  be  caught  and  brought 
back  if  he  attempted  to  escape,  like  a stray  ox  or  sheep.  Their  legal 
name  of  nativus,  or  neyf  which  I have  not  found  but  in  Britain,  seems 
to  point  to  their  origin  in  the  native  race,  the  original  possessors  of  the 
soil.  ...  In  the  register  of  Dunfermline  are  numerous  ‘ genealogies/  or 
stud-books,  for  enabling  the  lord  to  trace  and  reclaim  his  stock  of  serfs 
by  descent.  It  is  observable  that  most  of  them  are  of  Celtic  names.’7 

Clearly,  a subjugated  territory,  useless  without  cultivators, 
was  left  in  the  hands  of  the  original  cultivators,  because 
nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  putting  others  in  their  places ; 
even  could  an  adequate  number  of  others  be  had.  Hence, 
while  it  became  the  conqueror’s  interest  to  tie  each  original 
cultivator  to  the  soil,  it  also  became  his  interest  to  let  him 
have  such  an  amount  of  produce  as  to  maintain  him  and 
enable  him  to  rear  offspring,  and  it  further  became  his  interest 
to  protect  him  against  injuries  which  would  incapacitate  him 
for  work. 

To  show  how  fundamental  is  the  distinction  between  bondage 
of  the  primitive  type  and  the  bondage  of  serfdom,  it  needs  but 
to  add  that  while  the  one  can,  and  does,  exist  among  savages 
and  pastoral  tribes,  the  other  becomes  possible  only  after  the 
agricultural  stage  is  reached ; for  only  then  can  there  occur  the 
bodily  annexation  of  one  society  by  another,  and  only  then 
can  there  be  any  tying  to  the  soil. 

§ 458.  Associated  men  who  live  by  hunting,  and  to  whom 
the  area  occupied  is  of  value  only  as  a habitat  for  game,  can- 
not well  have  anything  more  than  a common  participation  in 
the  use  of  this  occupied  area : such  ownership  of  it  as  they 
have,  must  be  joint  ownership.  Naturally,  then,  at  the  outset 
all  the  adult  males,  who  are  at  once  hunters  and  warriors, 
are  the  common  possessors  of  the  undivided  land,  encroach- 
ment on  which  by  other  tribes  they  resist.  Though,  in  the 
earlier  pastoral  state,  especially  where  the  barrenness  of  the 


296 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


region  involves  wide  dispersion,  there  is  no  definite  pro- 
prietorship of  the  tract  wandered  over ; yet,  as  is  shown  us  in 
the  strife  between  the  herdsmen  of  Abraham  and  those  of  Lot 
respecting  feeding  grounds,  some  claims  to  exclusive  use  tend 
to  arise;  and  at  a later  half-pastoral  stage,  as  among  the 
ancient  Germans,  the  wanderings  of  each  division  fall  within 
prescribed  limits. 

I refer  to  these  facts  by  way  of  showing  the  identity  esta- 
blished at  the  outset  between  the  militant  class  and  the  land- 
owning class.  For  whether  the  group  is  one  which  lives  by 
hunting  or  one  which  lives  by  feeding  cattle,  any  slaves  its 
members  possess  are  excluded  from  land-ownership : the  free- 
men, who  are  all  fighting  men,  become,  as  a matter  of  course, 
the  proprietors  of  their  territory.  This  connexion  in  variously 
modified  forms,  long  continues ; and  could  scarcely  do  other- 
wise. Land  being,  in  early  settled  communities,  the  almost 
exclusive  source  of  wealth,  it  happens  inevitably  that  during 
times  in  which  the  principle  that  might  is  right  remains 
unqualified,  personal  power  and  ownership  of  the  soil  go 
together.  Hence  the  fact  that  where,  instead  of  being  held 
by  the  whole  society,  land  comes  to  be  parcelled  out  among 
component  village-communities,  or  among  families,  or  among 
individuals,  possession  of  it  habitually  goes  along  with  the 
bearing  of  arms.  In  ancient  Egypt  “ every  soldier  was  a land- 
owner  ” — “ had  an  allotment  of  land  of  about  six  acres.”  In 
Greece  the  invading  Hellenes,  wresting  the  country  from  its 
original  holders,  joined  military  service  with  territorial  endow- 
ment. In  Rome,  too,  “ every  freeholder  from  the  seventeenth 
to  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age,  was  under  obligation  of 
service  ...  so  that  even  the  emancipated  slave  had  to 
serve  who,  in  an  exceptional  case,  had  come  into  possession 
of  landed  property.”  The  like  happened  in  the  early  Teutonic 
community.  Joined  with  professional  warriors,  its  army 
included  “ the  mass  of  freemen  arranged  in  families  fighting 
for  their  homesteads  and  hearths  such  freemen,  or  markmen, 
owning  land  partly  in  common  and  partly  as  individual  pro- 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


297 


prietors.  Or  as  is  said  of  this  same  arrangement  among  the 
ancient  English,  “ their  occupation  of  the  land  as  cognationes 
resulted  from  their  enrolment  in  the  field,  where  each  kindred 
was  drawn  up  under  an  officer  of  its  own  lineage  and  appoint- 
ment and  so  close  was  this  dependence  that  “ a thane  for- 
feited his  hereditary  freehold  by  misconduct  in  battle.” 

Beyond  the  original  connexion  between  militancy  and  land- 
owning, which  naturally  arises  from  the  joint  interest  which 
those  who  own  the  land  and  occupy  it,  either  individually  or 
collectively,  have  in  resisting  aggressors,  there  arises  later  a 
further  connexion.  As,  along  wTith  successful  militancy,  there 
progresses  a social  evolution  which  gives  to  a dominant  ruler 
increased  power,  it  becomes  his  custom  to  reward  his  leading 
soldiers  by  grants  of  land.  Early  Egyptian  kings  “ bestowed 
on  distinguished  military  officers”  portions  of  the  crown 
domains.  When  the  barbarians  were  enrolled  as  Roman 
soldiers,  “ they  were  paid  also  by  assignments  of  land,  accord- 
ing to  a custom  which  prevailed  in  the  Imperial  armies.  The 
possession  of  these  lands  was  given  to  them  on  condition  of 
the  son  becoming  a soldier  like  his  father.”  And  that  kindred 
usages  were  general  throughout  the  feudal  period,  is  a familiar 
truth:  feudal  tenancy  being,  indeed,  thus  constituted;  and 
inability  to  bear  arms  being  a reason  for  excluding  women 
from  succession.  To  exemplify  the  nature  of  the  relation 
established,  it  will  suffice  to  name  the  fact  that  “ William 
the  Conqueror  . . . distributed  this  kingdom  into  about 
60,000  parcels,  of  nearly  equal  value  [partly  left  in  the  hands 
of  those  who  previously  held  it,  and  partly  made  over  to  his 
followers  as  either  owners  or  suzerains],  from  each  of  which 
the  service  of  a soldier  was  due and  the  further  fact  that 
one  of  his  laws  requires  all  owners  of  land  to  “ swear 
that  they  become  vassals  or  tenants,”  and  wTill  “ defend  their 
lord’s  territories  and  title  as  well  as  his  person  ” by  “ knight- 
service  on  horseback.” 

That  this  original  relation  between  landowning  and  mili- 
tancy long  survived,  we  are  shown  by  the  armorial  bearings 


298 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


of  county  families,  as  well  as  by  the  portraits  of  family  ances- 
tors, who  are  mostly  represented  in  military  costume. 

§ 459.  Setting  out  with  the  class  of  warriors,  or  men  bear- 
ing arms,  who  in  primitive  communities  are  owners  of  the 
land,  collectively  or  individually,  or  partly  one  and  partly  the 
other,  there  arises  the  question — How  does  this  class  dif- 
ferentiate into  nobles  and  freemen  ? 

The  most  general  reply  is,  of  course,  that  since  the  state 
of  homogeneity  is  by  necessity  unstable,  time  inevitably  brings 
about  inequalities  of  positions  among  those  whose  positions 
were  at  first  equal.  Before  the  semi-civilized  state  is  reached, 
the  differentiation  cannot  become  decided ; because  there  can 
be  no  large  accumulations  of  wealth,  and  because  the  laws  of 
descent  do  not  favour  maintenance  of  such  accumulations  as 
are  possible.  But  in  the  pastoral,  and  still  more  in  the  agri- 
cultural, community,  especially  where  descent  through  males 
has  been  established,  several  causes  of  differentiation  come  into 
play.  There  is,  first,  unlikeness  of  kinship  to  the  head  mam 
Obviously,  in  course  of  generations,  the  younger  descendants 
of  the  younger  become  more  and  more  remotely  related  to 
the  eldest  descendant  of  the  eldest ; and  social  inferiority 
arises.  As  the  obligation  to  execute  blood-revenge  for  a mur- 
dered member  of  the  family  does  not  extend  beyond  a certain 
degree  of  relationship  (in  ancient  France  not  beyond  the 
seventh),  so  neither  does  the  accompanying  distinction.  From 
the  same  cause  comes  inferiority  in  point  of  possessions. 
Inheritance  by  the  eldest  male  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, works  the  effect  that  those  who  are  the  most  distantly 
connected  in  blood  with  the  head  of  the  group,  are  also  the 
poorest.  Then  there  cooperates  with  these  factors  a 

consequent  factor;  namely,  the  extra  power  which  greater 
'wealth  gives.  For  when  there  arise  disputes  within  the  tribe, 
the  richer  are  those  who,  by  their  better  appliances  for 
defence  and  their  greater  ability  to  purchase  aid,  naturally 
have  the  advantage  over  the  poorer.  Proof  that  this  is  a 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


299 


potent  cause  is  found  in  a fact  named  by  Sir  Henry  Maine. 
“ The  founders  of  a part  of  our  modern  European  aristocracy, 
the  Danish,  are  known  to  have  been  originally  peasants  who 
fortified  their  houses  during  deadly  village  struggles  and  then 
used  their  advantage.”  Such  superiorities  of  position, 

once  initiated,  are  increased  in  another  way.  Already  in  the 
last  chapter  we  have  seen  that  communities  are  to  a certain 
extent  increased  by  the  addition  of  fugitives  from  other  com- 
munities— sometimes  criminals,  sometimes  those  who  are 
oppressed.  While,  in  places  where  such  fugitives  belong  to 
races  of  superior  types,  they  often  become  rulers  (as  among 
many  Indian  hill- tribes,  whose  rajahs  are  of  Hindoo  extrac- 
tion), in  places  where  they  are  of  the  same  race  and  cannot 
do  this,  they  attach  themselves  to  those  of  chief  power  in 
their  adopted  tribe.  Sometimes  they  yield  up  their  freedom 
for  the  sake  of  protection : a man  makes  himself  a slave  by 
breaking  a spear  in  the  presence  of  his  wished  for  master,  as 
among  the  East  Africans,  or  by  inflicting  some  small  bodily 
injury  upon  him,  as  among  the  Fulahs.  In  ancient  Eome 
the  semi-slave  class  distinguished  as  clients,  originated  by  this 
voluntary  acceptance  of  servitude  with  safety.  But  where 
his  aid  promises  to  be  of  value  in  war,  the  fugitive  offers 
himself  as  a warrior  in  exchange  for  maintenance  and  refuge. 
Other  things  equal,  he  chooses  for  master  some  one  marked 
by  superiority  of  power  and  property  ; and  thus  enables  the 
man  already  dominant  to  become  more  dominant.  Such 
armed  dependents,  having  as  aliens  no  claims  to  the  lands  of 
the  group,  and  bound  to  its  head  only  by  fealty,  answer  in 
position  to  the  comites  as  found  in  the  early  German  commu- 
nities, and  as  exemplified  in  old  English  times  by  the 
“ Huscarlas”  (Housecaris),  with  whom  nobles  surrounded 
themselves.  Evidently,  too,  followers  of  this  kind,  having 
certain  interests  in  common  with  their  protector  and  no  inte- 
rests in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  community,  become,  in 
his  hands,  the  means  of  usurping  communal  rights  and  ele- 
vating himself  while  depressing  the  rest. 


300 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Step  by  step  the  contrast  strengthens.  Beyond  such  as 
have  voluntarily  made  themselves  slaves  to  a head  man, 
others  have  become  enslaved  by  capture  in  the  wars  mean- 
while going  on,  others  by  staking  themselves  in  gaming, 
others  by  purchase,  others  by  crime,  others  by  debt.  And  of 
necessity  the  possession  of  many  slaves,  habitually  accom- 
panying wealth  and  power,  tends  further  to  increase  that 
wealth  and  power,  and  to  mark  off  still  more  the  higher  rank 
from  the  lower. 

And  then,  finally,  the  inferior  freeman  finds  himself  so 
much  at  the  mercy  of  the  superior  freeman,  or  noble,  and  his 
armed  followers  of  alien  origin,  that  it  becomes  needful  for 
safety’s  sake  to  be  also  a follower ; and,  at  first  voluntary,  the 
relation  of  dependence  grows  more  and  more  compulsory. 
“ The  freeman  might  choose  his  Lord,  he  might  determine 
to  whom,  in  technical  phrase,  he  should  commend  himself ; 
but  a Lord  he  must  have,  a Lord  to  act  at  once  as  his  pro- 
tector and  as  his  surety.” 

§ 460.  Certain  concomitant  influences  generate  differences 
of  nature,  physical  and  mental,  between  those  members  of  a 
community  who  have  attained  superior  positions,  and  those  who 
have  remained  inferior.  Unlikenesses  of  status  once  initiated, 
lead  to  unlikenesses  of  life,  which,  by  the  constitutional 
changes  they  work,  presently  make  the  unlikenesses  of  status 
more  difficult  to  alter. 

First  there  comes  difference  of  diet  and  its  effects.  In  the 
habit,  common  among  primitive  tribes,  of  letting  the  women 
subsist  on  the  leavings  of  the  men,  and  in  the  accompanying 
habit  of  denying  to  the  younger  men  certain  choice  viands 
which  the  older  men  eat,  we  see  exemplified  the  inevitable 
proclivity  of  the  strong  to  feed  themselves  at  the  expense  of 
the  weak ; and  when  there  arise  class-divisions,  there  habit- 
ually results  better  nutrition  of  the  superior  than  of  the 
inferior.  Forster  remarks  that  in  the  Society  Islands  the 
lower  classes  often  suffer  from  a scarcity  of  food  which  never 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


301 


extends  to  the  upper  classes.  In  the  Sandwich  Islands  the 
flesh  of  such  animals  as  they  have,  is  eaten  principally  by 
the  chiefs.  Of  cannibalism  among  the  Fijians,  Seeman  says 
— “ the  common  people  throughout  the  group,  as  well  as 
women  of  all  classes,  were  by  custom  debarred  from  it.” 
These  instances  sufficiently  indicate  the  contrast  that  every- 
where arises  between  the  diets  of  the  ruling  few  and  of  the 
subject  many.  Naturally  by  such  differences  in  diet,  and 
accompanying  differences  in  clothing,  shelter,  and  strain  on 
the  energies,  are  eventually  produced  physical  differences. 
Of  the  Fijians  we  read  that  “ the  chiefs  are  tall,  well  made, 
and  muscular ; while  the  lower  orders  manifest  the  meagre- 
ness arising  from  laborious  service  and  scanty  nourish- 
ment.”  The  chiefs  among  the  Sandwich  Islanders  “ are  tall 
and  stout,  and  their  personal  appearance  is  so  much  superior 
to  that  of  the  common  people,  that  some  have  imagined  them 
a distinct  race.”  Ellis,  verifying  Cook,  says  of  the  Tahitians, 
that  the  chiefs  are,  “ almost  without  exception,  as  much 
superior  to  the  peasantry  ...  in  physical  strength  as  they 
are  in  rank  and  circumstances  and  Erskine  notes  a parallel 
contrast  among  the  Tongans.  That  the  like  holds  of  the 
African  races  may  be  inferred  from  Reade’s  remark  that — 

“ The  court  lady  is  tall  and  elegant ; her  skin  smooth  and  transparent ; 
her  beauty  has  stamina  and  longevity.  The  girl  of  the  middle  classes,  so 
frequently  pretty,  is  very  often  short  and  coarse,  and  soon  becomes  a 
matron  ; while,  if  yon  descend  to  the  lower  classes,  you  will  find  good 
looks  rare,  and  the  figure  angular,  stunted,  sometimes  almost  de- 
formed.”* 

Simultaneously  there  arise  between  rulers  and  ruled,  un- 
likenesses of  bodily  activity  and  skill.  Occupied,  as  those  of 
higher  rank  commonly  are,  in  the  chase  when  not  occupied 
in  war,  they  have  a life-long  discipline  of  a kind  conducive 
to  various  physical  superiorities ; while,  contrariwise,  those 
occupied  in  agriculture,  in  carrying  burdens,  and  in  other 

# While  writing  I find,  in  the  recently-issued  “ Transactions  of  the  Anthro- 
pological Institute,”  proof  that  even  now  in  England,  the  professional  classes 
are  both  taller  and  heavier  than  the  artizan  classes. 


302 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


drudgeries,  partially  lose  what  agility  and  address  they  natu- 
rally  had.  Class-predominance  is  thus  further  facilitated. 

And  then  there  are  the  respective  mental  traits  produced 
by  daily  exercise  of  power  and  by  daily  submission  to  power. 
The  ideas,  and  sentiments,  and  modes  of  behaviour,  perpetu- 
ally repeated,  generate  on  the  one  side  an  inherited  fitness  for 
command,  and  on  the  other  side  an  inherited  fitness  for 
obedience;  with  the  result  that,  in  course  of  time,  there 
arises  on  both  sides  the  belief  that  the  established  relations  of 
classes  are  the  natural  ones. 

§ 461.  By  implying  habitual  war  among  settled  societies, 
the  foregoing  interpretations  have  implied  the  formation  of 
compound  societies.  Such  class-divisions  as  have  been 
described,  are  therefore  usually  complicated  by  further  class- 
divisions  arising  from  the  relations  established  between  those 
conquerors  and  conquered  whose  respective  groups  already 
contain  class-divisions. 

This  increasing  differentiation  which  accompanies  increas- 
ing integration,  is  clearly  seen  in  such  semi-civilized  societies 
as  that  of  the  Sandwich  Islanders.  Their  ranks  are — 

“ 1.  King,  queens,  and  royal  family,  along  with  the  councillor  or 
chief  minister  of  the  king.  2.  The  governors  of  the  different  islands, 
and  the  chiefs  of  several  large  divisions.  Many  of  these  are  descendants 
of  those  who  were  kings  of  the  respective  islands  in  Cooks  time,  and 
until  subdued  by  T-amehameha.  3.  Chiefs  of  districts  or  villages,  who 
pay  a regular  rent  for  the  land,  cultivating  it  by  means  of  their  depen- 
dants, or  letting  it  out  to  tenants.  This  rank  Includes  also  the  ancient 
priests.  4.  The  labouring  classes — those  renting  small  portions  of  land, 
those  working  on  the  land  for  food  and  clothing,  mechanics,  musicians, 
and  dancers.” 

And,  as  shown  elsewhere,  these  labouring  classes  are  other- 
wise divisible  into — artizans,  who  are  paid  wages;  serfs, 
attached  to  the  soil ; and  slaves.  Inspection  makes  it  tolera- 
bly clear  that  the  lowest  chiefs,  once  independent,  were  re- 
duced to  the  second  rank  when  adjacent  chiefs  conquered 
them  and  became  local  kings ; and  that  they  were  reduced  to 
the  third  rank  at  the  same  time  that  these  local  kings  becamo 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


303 


chiefs  of  the  second  rank,  when,  by  conquest,  a kingship  of 
the  whole  group  was  established.  Other  societies  in  kindred 
stages  show  us  kindred  divisions,  similarly  to  be  accounted 
for.  Among  the  New  Zealanders  there  are  six  grades ; there 
are  six  among  the  Ashantees ; there  are  five  among  the 
Abyssinians ; and  other  more  or  less  compounded  African 
States  present  analogous  divisions.  Perhaps  ancient  Peru 
furnishes  as  clear  a case  as  any  of  the  superposition  of  ranks 
resulting  from  subjugation.  The  petty  kingdoms  which  were 
massed  together  by  the  conquering  Yncas,  were  severally  left 
with  the  rulers  and  their  subordinates  undisturbed  ; but  over 
the  whole  empire  there  was  a superior  organization  of  Ynca 
rulers  of  various  grades.  That  kindred  causes  produced 
kindred  effects  in  early  Egyptian  times,  is  inferable  from 
traditions  and  remains  which  tell  us  both  of  local  struggles 
which  ended  in  consolidation,  and  of  conquests  by  invading 
races ; whence  would  naturally  result  the  numerous  divisions 
and  sub-divisions  which  Egyptian  society  presented : an  in- 
ference justified  by  the  fact  that  under  Roman  dominion, 
there  was  a re-complication  caused  by  the  superposing  of 
Roman  governing  agencies  upon  native  governing  agencies. 
Passing  over  other  ancient  instances,  and  coming  to  the 
familiar  case  of  our  own  country,  we  may  note  how,  from  the 
followers  of  the  conquering  Norman,  there  arose  the  two 
ranks  of  the  greater  and  lesser  barons,  holding  their  land 
directly  from  the  king,  while  the  old  English  thanes  were 
reduced  to  the  rank  of  sub-feudatories.  Of  course  where 
perpetual  wars  produce,  first,  small  aggregations,  and  then 
larger  ones,  and  then  dissolutions,  and  then  re-aggregations, 
and  then  unions  of  them,  various  in  their  extents,  as  happened 
in  mediaeval  Europe,  there  result  very  numerous  divisions. 
In  the  Merovingian  kingdoms  there  were  slaves  having  seven 
different  origins ; there  were  serfs  of  more  than  one  grade  ; 
there  were  freedmen — men  who,  though  emancipated,  did  not 
rank  with  the  fully  free ; and  there  were  two  other  classes 
less  than  free — the  liten  and  the  coloni.  Of  the  free  there 


304 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


were  three  classes — independent  landowners ; freemen  in 
relations  of  dependence  with  other  freemen,  of  whom  there 
were  two  kinds ; and  freemen  in  special  relations  with  the 
king,  of  whom  there  were  three  kinds. 

And  here,  while  observing  in  these  various  cases  how 
greater  political  differentiation  is  made  possible  by  greater 
political  integration,  we  may  also  observe  that  in  early  stages, 
while  social  cohesion  is  small,  greater  political  integration  is 
made  possible  by  greater  political  differentiation.  For  the 
larger  the  mass  to  be  held  together,  while  incoherent,  the  more 
numerous  must  be  the  agents  standing  in  successive  degrees 
of  subordination  to  hold  it  together. 

§ 462.  The  political  differentiations  which  militancy  origi- 
nates, and  which  for  a long  time  increase  in  definiteness,  so 
that  mixture  of  ranks  by  marriage  is  made  a crime,  are  at 
later  stages,  and  under  other  conditions,  interfered  with, 
traversed,  and  partially  or  wholly  destroyed. 

Where,  for  ages  and  in  varying  degrees,  war  has  been  pro- 
ducing aggregations  and  dissolutions,  the  continual  breaking 
up  and  re-forming  of  social  bonds,  obscures  the  original 
divisions  established  in  the  ways  described:  instance  the 
state  of  things  in  the  Merovingian  kingdoms  just  named. 
And  where,  instead  of  conquests  by  kindred  adjacent  societies, 
which  in  large  measure  leave  standing  the  social  positions 
and  properties  of  the  subjugated,  there  are  conquests  by  alien 
races  carried  on  more  barbarously,  the  original  grades  may  be 
practically  obliterated,  and,  in  place  of  them,  there  may  come 
grades  established  entirely  by  appointment  of  the  despotic 
conqueror.  In  parts  of  the  East,  where  such  over-runnings 
of  race  by  race  have  been  going  on  from  the  earliest  recorded 
times,  we  see  this  state  of  things  substantially  realized. 
There  is  little  or  nothing  of  hereditary  rank ; and  the  only 
rank  recognized  is  that  of  official  position.  Besides  the 
different  grades  of  appointed  state-functionaries,  there  are 
no  class-distinctions  having  political  meanings. 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


305 


A tendency  to  subordination  of  the  original  ranks,  and  a 
substitution  of  new  ranks,  is  otherwise  caused : it  accompanies 
the  progress  of  political  consolidation.  The  change  which 
occurred  in  China  illustrates  this  effect.  Gutzlaff  says — 

“ Mere  title  was  afterwards  (on  the  decay  of  the  feudal  system)  the 
reward  bestowed  by  the  sovereign  . . . and  the  haughty  and  powerful 
grandees  of  other  countries  are  here  the  dependant  and  penurious 
servants  of  the  Crown.  . . . The  revolutionary  principle  of  levelling 
all  classes  has  been  carried,  in  China,  to  a very  great  extent.  . . . This 
is  introduced  for  the  benefit  of  the  sovereign,  to  render  his  authority 
supreme.” 

The  causes  of  such  changes  are  not  difficult  to  see.  In  the 
first  place  the  subjugated  local  rulers,  losing,  as  integration 
advances,  more  and  more  of  their  power,  lose,  consequently, 
more  and  more  of  their  actual,  if  not  of  their  nominal,  rank  : 
passing  from  the  condition  of  tributary  rulers  to  the  condition 
of  subjects.  Indeed,  jealousy  on  the  part  of  the  monarch 
sometimes  prompts  positive  exclusion  of  them  from  influential 
positions ; as  in  France,  where  “ Louis  XIY.  systematically 
excluded  the  nobility  from  ministerial  functions.”  Presently 
their  distinction  is  further  diminished  by  the  rise  of  com- 
peting ranks  created  by  State-authority.  Instead  of  the  titles 
inherited  by  the  land-possessing  military  chiefs,  which  were 
descriptive  of  their  attributes  and  positions,  there  come  to  be 
titles  conferred  by  the  sovereign.  Certain  of  the  classes  thus 
established  are  still  of  military  origin ; as  the  knights  made 
on  the  battle-field,  sometimes  in  large  numbers  before  battle, 
as  at  Agincourt,  when  500  were  thus  created,  and  sometimes 
afterwards  in  reward  for  valour.  Others  of  them  arise  from 
the  exercise  of  political  functions  of  different  grades ; as  in 
France,  where,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  hereditary  nobility 
was  conferred  on  officers  of  the  great  council  and  officers  of 
the  chamber  of  accounts.  The  administration  of  law,  too, 
originates  titles  of  honour.  In  France,  in  1607,  nobility  was 
granted  to  doctors,  regents,  and  professors  of  law ; and  “ the 
superior  courts  obtained,  in  1644,  the  privileges  of  nobility  of 
the  first  degree.”  So  that,  as  Warnkcenig  remarks,  “ the 


30G 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


original  conception  of  nobility  was  in  the  course  of  time  so 
much  widened  that  its  primitive  relation  to  the  possession  of 
a fief  is  no  longer  recognizable,  and  the  whole  institution 
seems  changed.”  These,  with  kindred  instances  which  our 
own  country  and  other  European  countries  furnish,  show  us 
both  how  the  original  class-divisions  become  blurred,  and 
how  the  new  class-divisions  are  distinguished  by  being  de- 
localized. They  are  strata  which  run  through  the  integrated 
society,  having,  many  of  them,  no  reference  to  the  land  and 
no  more  connexion  with  one  place  than  with  another.  It  is 
true  that  of  the  titles  artificially  conferred,  the  higher  are 
habitually  derived  from  the  names  of  districts  and  towns  : so 
simulating,  but  only  simulating,  the  ancient  feudal  titles  ex- 
pressive of  actual  lordship  over  territories.  The  other  modern 
titles,  however,  which  have  arisen  with  the  growth  of  political, 
judicial,  and  other  functions,  have  not  even  nominal  references 
to  localities.  This  change  naturally  accompanies  the  growing 
integration  of  the  parts  into  a whole,  and  the  rise  of  an  or- 
ganization of  the  whole  which  disregards  the  divisions  among 
the  parts. 

More  effective  still  in  weakening  those  primitive  political 
divisions  initiated  by  militancy,  is  increasing  industrialism. 
This  acts  in  two  ways — firstly,  by  creating  a class  having 
power  derived  otherwise  than  from  territorial  possessions  or 
official  positions;  and,  secondly,  by  generating  ideas  and 
sentiments  at  variance  with  the  ancient  assumptions  of  class- 
superiority.  As  we  have  already  seen,  rank  and 

wealth  are  at  the  outset  habitually  associated.  Existing 
uncivilized  peoples  still  show  us  this  relation.  The  chief  of 
a kraal  among  the  Koranna  Hottentots  is  “ usually  the  per- 
son of  greatest  property.”  In  the  Bechuana  language  “ the 
word  kosi  . . . has  a double  acceptation,  denoting  either  a 
chief  or  a rich  man.”  Such  small  authority  as  a Chinook 
chief  has,  “ rests  on  riches,  which  consists  in  wives,  children, 
slaves,  boats,  and  shells.”  Eude  European  peoples,  like  the 
Albanians,  yield  kindred  facts : the  heads  of  their  communes 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


307 


“ sont  en  general  les  gens  les  plus  riches.”  Indeed  it  is 
manifest  that  before  the  development  of  commerce,  and  while 
possession  of  land  could  alone  give  largeness  of  means,  lord- 
ship  and  riches  were  directly  connected;  so  that,  as  Sir 
Henry  Maine  remarks,  “ the  opposition  commonly  set  up 
between  birth  and  wealth,  and  particularly  wealth  other  than 
landed  property,  is  entirely  modern.1 ” When,  however,  with 
the  arrival  of  industry  at  that  stage  in  which  wholesale 
transactions  bring  large  profits,  there  arise  traders  who  vie 
with,  and  exceed,  many  of  the  landed  nobility  in  wealth ; 
and  wThen  by  conferring  obligations  on  kings  and  nobles,  such 
traders  gain  social  influence ; there  comes  an  occasional 
removal  of  the  barrier  between  them  and  the  titled  classes. 
In  France  the  process  began  as  early  as  1271,  when  there 
were  issued  letters  ennobling  Eaoul  the  goldsmith — “the 
first  letters  conferring  nobility  in  existence”  in  France.  The 
precedent  once  established  is  followed  with  increasing  fre- 
quency; and  sometimes,  under  pressure  of  financial  needs, 
there  grows  up  the  practice  of  selling  titles,  in  disguised 
ways  or  openly.  In  France,  in  1702,  the  king  ennobled  200 
persons  at  3,000  livres  a-liead ; in  1706,  500  persons  at 
6,000  livres  a-head.  And  then  the  breaking  down  of  the 
ancient  political  divisions  thus  caused,  is  furthered  by  that 
weakening  of  them  consequent  on  the  growing  spirit  of 
equality  fostered  by  industrial  life.  In  proportion  as  men 
are  habituated  to  maintain  their  own  claims  while  respect- 
ing the  claims  of  others,  which  they  do  in  every  act  of 
exchange,  whether  of  goods  for  money  or  of  services  for  pay, 
there  is  produced  a mental  attitude  at  variance  with  that 
which  accompanies  subjection ; and,  as  fast  as  this  happens, 
such  political  distinctions  as  imply  subjection,  lose  more  and 
more  of  that  respect  which  gives  them  strength. 

§ 463.  Class-distinctions,  then,  date  back  to  the  beginnings 
of  social  life.  Omitting  those  small  wandering  assemblages 
which  are  so  incoherent  that  their  component  parts  are 


308 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


ever  changing  their  relations  to  one  another  and  to  the 
environment,  we  see  that  wherever  there  is  some  coherence 
and  some  permanence  of  relation  among  the  parts,  there 
begin  to  arise  political  divisions.  Eelative  superiority  of 
power,  first  causing  a differentiation  at  once  domestic  and 
social,  between  the  activities  of  the  sexes  and  the  consequent 
positions  of  the  sexes,  presently  begins  to  cause  a differentia- 
tion among  males,  shown  in  the  bondage  of  captives : a 
master-class  and  a slave-class  are  formed. 

Where  men  continue  the  wandering  life  in  pursuit  of  wild 
food  for  themselves  or  their  cattle,  the  groups  they  form  are 
debarred  from  doing  more  by  war  than  appropriate  one 
another’s  units  individually;  but  where  men  have  passed 
into  the  agricultural  or  settled  state,  it  becomes  possible  for 
one  community  to  take  possession  bodily  of  another  com- 
munity, along  with  the  territory  it  occupies.  When  this 
happens  there  arise  additional  class-divisions.  The  conquered 
and  tribute-paying  community,  besides  having  its  headmen 
reduced  to  subjection,  has  its  people  reduced  to  a state  such 
that,  while  they  continue  to  live  on  their  lands,  they  yield 
up,  through  the  intermediation  of  their  chiefs,  part  of  the 
produce  to  the  conquerors  : so  foreshadowing  what  eventually 
becomes  a serf-class. 

From  the  beginning  the  militant  class,  being  by  force  of 
arms  the  dominant  class,  becomes  the  class  which  owns  the 
source  of  food — the  land.  During  the  hunting  and  pastoral 
stages,  the  warriors  of  the  group  hold  the  land  collectively. 
On  passing  into  the  settled  state,  their  tenures  become 
partly  collective  and  partly  individual  in  sundry  ways,  and 
eventually  almost  wholly  individual.  But  throughout  long 
stages  of  social  evolution,  landowning  and  militancy  con- 
tinue to  be  associated. 

The  class-differentiation  of  which  militancy  is  the  active 
cause,  is  furthered  by  the  establishment  of  definite  descent, 
and  especially  male  descent,  and  by  the  transmission  of  posi- 
tion and  property  to  the  eldest  son  of  the  eldest  continually. 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENTIATION. 


309 


This  conduces  to  inequalities  of  position  and  wealth  between 
near  kindred  and  remote  kindred  ; and  such  inequalities  once 
initiated,  tend  to  increase ; since  it  results  from  them  that 
the  superior  get  greater  means  of  maintaining  their  power 
by  accumulating  appliances  for  offence  and  defence. 

Such  differentiation  is  augmented,  at  the  same  time  that  a 
new  differentiation  is  set  up,  by  the  immigration  of  fugitives 
who  attach  themselves  to  the  most  powerful  member  of  the 
group  : now  as  dependants  who  work,  and  now  as  armed 
followers — armed  followers  who  form  a class  bound  to  the 
dominant  man  and  unconnected  with  the  land.  And  since, 
in  clusters  of  such  groups,  fugitives  ordinarily  flock  most  to 
the  strongest  group,  and  become  adherents  of  its  head,  they 
are  instrumental  in  furthering  those  subsequent  integrations 
and  differentiations  which  conquests  bring  about. 

Inequalities  of  social  position,  bringing  inequalities  in  the 
supplies  and  kinds  of  food,  clothing,  and  shelter,  tend  to 
establish  physical  differences  ; to  the  further  advantage  of  the 
rulers  and  disadvantage  of  the  ruled.  And  beyond  the 
physical  differences,  there  are  produced  by  the  respective 
habits  of  life,  mental  differences,  emotional  and  intellectual, 
strengthening  the  general  contrast  of  nature. 

When  there  come  the  conquests  which  produce  compound 
societies,  and,  again,  doubly  compound  ones,  there  result 
superpositions  of  ranks.  And  the  general  effect  is  that,  while 
the  ranks  of  the  conquering  society  become  respectively 
higher  than  those  which  existed  before,  the  ranks  of  the  con- 
quered society  become  respectively  lower. 

The  class-divisions  thus  formed  during  the  earlier  stages 
of  militancy,  are  traversed  and  obscured  as  fast  as  many 
small  societies  are  consolidated  into  one  large  society.  Eanks 
referring  to  local  organization  are  gradually  replaced  by  ranks 
referring  to  general  organization.  Instead  of  deputy  and 
sub-deputy  governing  agents  who  are  the  militant  owners  of 
the  sub-divisions  they  rule,  there  come  governing  agents  who 
more  or  less  clearly  form  strata  running  throughout  the 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


310 

society  as  a whole — a concomitant  of  developed  political 
administration. 

Chiefly,  however,  we  have  to  note  that  while  the  higher 
political  evolution  of  large  social  aggregates,  tends  to  break 
down  the  divisions  of  rank  which  grew  up  in  the  small  com- 
ponent social  aggregates,  by  substituting  other  divisions, 
these  original  divisions  are  still  more  broken  down  by  grow- 
ing industrialism.  Generating  a wealth  that  is  not  connected 
with  rank,  this  initiates  a competing  power;  and  at  the 
same  time,  by  establishing  the  equal  positions  of  citizens 
before  the  law  in  respect  of  trading  transactions,  it  weakens 
those  divisions  which  at  the  outset  expressed  inequalities  of 
position  before  the  law. 

As  verifying  these  interpretations,  I may  add  that  they 
harmonize  with  the  interpretations  of  ceremonial  insti- 
tutions already  given.  When  the  conquered  enemy  is  made 
a slave,  and  mutilated  by  taking  a trophy  from  his  body,  we 
see  simultaneously  originating  the  deepest  political  distinction 
and  the  ceremony  which  marks  it ; and  with  the  continued 
militancy  that  compounds  and  re-coinpounds  social  groups, 
there  goes  at  once  the  development  of  political  distinctions 
and  the  development  of  ceremonies  marking  them.  And  as 
we  before  saw  that  growing  industrialism  diminishes  the 
rigour  of  ceremonial  rule,  so  here  w7e  see  that  it  tends  to 
destroy  those  class- divisions  which  militancy  originates,  and 
to  establish  quite  alien  ones  which  indicate  differences  of 
position  consequent  on  differences  of  aptitude  for  the  various 
functions  which  an  industrial  society  needs. 


CHAPTER  V. 

POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES. 

§ 464.  The  conceptions  of  biologists  have  been  greatly  en- 
larged by  the  discovery  that  organisms  which,  when  adult, 
appear  to  have  scarcely  anything  in  common,  were,  in  their 
first  stages,  very  similar ; and  that,  indeed,  all  organisms  start 
with  a common  structure.  Recognition  of  this  truth  has  re- 
volutionized not  only  their  ideas  respecting  the  relations  of 
organisms  to  one  another,  but  also  their  ideas  respecting  the 
relations  of  the  parts  of  each  organism  to  one  another. 

If  societies  have  evolved,  and  if  that  mutual  dependence  of 
their  parts  which  cooperation  implies,  has  been  gradually 
reached,  then  the  implication  is  that  however  unlike  their 
developed  structures  become,  there  is  a rudimentary  structure 
with  which  they  all  set  out.  And  if  there  can  be  recognized 
any  such  primitive  unity,  recognition  of  it  will  help  us  to 
interpret  the  ultimate  diversity.  We  shall  understand  better 
how  in  each  society  the  several  components  of  the  political 
agency  have  come  to  be  what  we  now  see  them;  and  also 
how  those  of  one  society  are  related  to  those  of  another. 

Setting  out  with  an  unorganized  horde,  including  both 
sexes  and  all  ages,  let  us  ask  what  must  happen  when  some 
public  question,  as  that  of  migration,  or  of  defence  against 
enemies,  has  to  be  decided.  The  assembled  individuals  will 
fall,  more  or  less  clearly,  into  two  divisions.  The  elder,  the 
stronger,  and  those  whose  sagacity  and  courage  have  been 
proved  by  experience,  will  form  the  smaller  part,  who  carry 


312 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


on  the  discussion  ; while  the  larger  part,  formed  of  the  young, 
the  weak,  and  the  undistinguished,  will  be  listeners,  who 
usually  do  no  more  than  express  from  time  to  time  assent  or 
dissent.  A further  inference  may  safely  be  drawn.  In  the 
cluster  of  leading  men  there  is  sure  to  be  one  whose  weight 
is  greater  than  that  of  any  other — some  aged  hunter,  some 
distinguished  warrior,  some  cunning  medicine-man,  who  will 
have  more  than  his  individual  share  in  forming  the  resolution 
finally  acted  upon.  That  is  to  say,  the  entire  assemblage  will 
resolve  itself  into  three  parts.  To  use  a biological  metaphor, 
there  will,  out  of  the  general  mass,  be  differentiated  a nucleus 
and  a nucleolus. 

These  first  traces  of  political  structure  which  we  infer 
a priori  must  spontaneously  arise,  we  find  have  arisen  among 
the  rudest  peoples : repetition  having  so  strengthened  them 
as  to  produce  a settled  order.  When,  among  the  aborigines 
of  Victoria,  a tribe  plans  revenge  on  another  tribe  supposed 
to  have  killed  one  of  its  members,  “ a council  is  called  of  all 
the  old  men  of  the  tribe.  . . The  women  form  an  outer 

circle  round  the  men.  . . The  chief  [simply  ‘ a native  of 

influence  ’]  opens  the  council.”  And  what  we  here  see  hap- 
pening in  an  assemblage  having  no  greater  differences  than 
those  based  on  strength,  age,  and  capacity,  happens  when, 
later,  these  natural  distinctions  have  gained  definiteness.  In 
illustration  may  be  named  the  account  which  Schoolcraft 
gives  of  a conference  at  which  the  Chippewas,  Ottawas,  and 
Pottowattomies  met  certain  United  States’  Commissioners : 
Schoolcraft  being  himself  present.  After  the  address  of  the 
head  commissioner  had  been  delivered,  the  speaking  on  be- 
half of  the  Indians  was  carried  on  by  the  principal  chiefs  : 
the  lead  being  taken  by  “ a man  venerable  for  his  age  and 
standing.”  Though  Schoolcraft  does  not  describe  the  as- 
semblage  of  undistinguished  people,  yet  that  they  were  pre- 
sent is  shown  by  a passage  in  one  of  the  native  speeches : — 
“ Behold  ! see  my  brethren,  both  young  and  old — the  warriors 
and  chiefs — the  women  and  children  of  my  nation.”  And 


POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES. 


313 


that  the  political  order  observed  on  this  occasion  was  the 
usual  order,  is  implied  by  its  recurrence  even  in  parts  of 
America  where  chiefs  have  become  marked  off  by  ascribed 
nobility ; as  instance  the  account  of  one  of  the  Central 
American  tribes,  who  “ have  frequent  reunions  in  their 
council-house  at  night.  The  hall  is  then  lighted  up  by  a 
large  fire,  and  the  people  sit  with  uncovered  heads,  listening 
respectfully  to  the  observations  and  decisions  of  the  ahuales 
— men  over  forty  years  of  age,  who  have  occupied  public 
positions,  or  distinguished  themselves  in  some  way.”  Among 
peoples  unlike  in  type  and  remote  in  locality,  we  find,  modi- 
fied in  detail  but  similar  in  general  character,  this  primitive 
governmental  form.  Of  the  Hill  tribes  of  India  may  be  in- 
stanced the  Khonds,  of  whom  we  read  that — 

u Assemblies  of  the  whole  tribe,  or  of  any  of  its  sub-divisions,  are  con- 
vened, to  determine  questions  of  general  importance.  The  members  of 
every  society,  however,  have  a right  to  be  present  at  all  its  councils, 
and  to  give  their  voices  on  the  questions  mooted,  although  the  patri- 
archs alone  take  a part  in  their  public  discussion”  . . . “ The  federal 
patriarchs,  in  like  manner,  consult  with  the  heads  of  tribes,  and 
assemble  when  necessary  the  entire  population  of  the  federal  group.” 

In  New  Zealand,  too,  the  government  was  conducted  in 
accordance  with  public  opinion  expressed  in  general  assem- 
blies ; and  the  chiefs  “ could  not  declare  peace  or  war,  or  do 
anything  affecting  the  whole  people,  without  the  sanction  of 
the  majority  of  the  clan.”  Of  the  Tahitians,  Ellis  tells  us 
that  the  king  had  a few  chiefs  as  advisers,  but  that  no  affair 
of  national  importance  could  be  undertaken  without  consult- 
ing the  land-holders  or  second  rank,  and  also  that  public 
assemblies  were  held.  Similarly  of  the  Malagasy.  “ The 
greatest  national  council  in  Madagascar  is  an  assembly  of  the 
people  of  the  capital,  and  the  heads  of  the  provinces,  towns, 
villages,  &c.”  The  king  usually  presides  in  person. 

Though  in  these  last  cases  we  see  considerable  changes  in 
the  relative  powers  of  the  three  components,  so  that  the  inner 
few  have  gained  in  authority  at  the  expense  of  the  outer 
many,  yet  all  three  are  still  present ; and  they  continue  to 


314 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


be  present  when  we  pass  to  sundry  historic  peoples.  Even 
of  the  Phoenicians,  Movers  notes  that  “ in  the  time  of  Alex- 
ander a war  was  decided  upon  by  the  Tyrians  without  the 
consent  of  the  absent  king,  the  senate  acting  together  with 
the  popular  assembly.”  Then  there  is  the  familiar  case  of 
the  Homeric  Greeks,  whose  Agora,  presided  over  by  the  king, 
was  “ an  assembly  for  talk,  communication  and  discussion  to 
a certain  extent  by  the  chiefs,  in  presence  of  the  people  as 
listeners  and  sympathisers,”  who  were  seated  around  ; and 
that  the  people  were  not  always  passive  is  shown  by  the  story 
of  Thersites,  who,  ill-used  though  he  was  by  Odysseus  and 
derided  by  the  crowd  for  interfering,  had  first  made  his 
harangue.  Again,  the  king,  the  senate,  and  the  freemen,  in 
early  Roman  times,  stood  in  relations  which  had  manifestly 
grown  out  of  those  existing  in  the  original  assembly ; for 
though  the  three  did  not  simultaneously  co-operate,  yet  on 
important  occasions  the  king  communicated  his  proposals  to 
the  assembled  burgesses,  who  expressed  their  approval  or  dis- 
approval, and  the  clan-chiefs,  forming  the  senate,  though  they 
did  not  debate  in  public,  had  yet  such  joint  power  that  they 
could,  on  occasion,  negative  the  decision  of  king  and  bur- 
gesses. Concerning  the  primitive  Germans,  Tacitus,  as  trans- 
lated by  Mr.  Freeman,  writes — 

" On  smaller  matters  the  chiefs  debate,  on  greater  matters  all  men  ; but 
so  that  those  things  whose  final  decision  rests  with  the  whole  people 
are  first  handled  by  the  chiefs.  . . . The  multitude  sits  armed  in  such 
order  as  it  thinks  good ; silence  is  proclaimed  by  the  priests,  who  have  also 
the  right  of  enforcing  it.  Presently  the  king  or  chief,  according  to  the 
age  of  each,  according  to  his  birth,  according  to  his  glory  in  war  or  his 
eloquence,  is  listened  to,  speaking  rather  by  the  influence  of  persuasion 
than  by  the  power  of  commanding.  If  their  opinions  give  offence, 
they  are  thrust  aside  with  a shout ; if  they  approved,  the  hearers  clash 
their  spears.” 

Similarly  among  the  Scandinavians,  as  shown  us  in  Iceland, 
where,  besides  the  general  Al-thing  annually  held,  which  it 
was  “ disreputable  for  a freeman  not  to  attend,”  and  at  which 
“ people  of  all  classes  in  fact  pitched  their  tents,”  there  were 
local  assemblies  called  Var-things  “ attended  by  all  the  free- 


POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES. 


315 


men  of  the  district,  with  a crowd  of  retainers  . . . both  for 

the  discussion  of  public  affairs  and  the  administration  of  jus- 
tice . . . Within  the  circle  [formed  for  administering  justice] 

sat  the  judges,  the  people  standing  on  the  outside.”  In  the  ac- 
count given  by  Mr.  Freeman  of  the  yearly  meetings  in  the  Swiss 
cantons  of  Uri  and  Appenzell,  we  may  trace  this  primitive 
political  form  as  still  existing ; for  though  the  presence  of  the 
people  at  large  is  the  fact  principally  pointed  out,  yet  there  is 
named,  in  the  case  of  Uri,  the  body  of  magistrates  or  chosen 
chiefs  who  form  the  second  element,  as  well  as  the  head  magis- 
trate who  is  the  first  element.  And  that  in  ancient  England 
there  was  a kindred  constitution  of  the  Witenagemot,  is  in- 
directly proved;  as  witness  the  following  passage  from 
Freeman’s  Growth  of  the  English  Constitution : — 

“ No  ancient  record  gives  us  any  clear  or  formal  account  of  the  constitu- 
tion of  that  body.  It  is  commonly  spoken  of  in  a vague  way  as  a 
gathering  of  the  wise,  the  noble,  the  great  men.  But,  alongside  pas- 
sages like  these,  we  find  other  passages  which  speak  of  it  in  a way 
which  implies  a far  more  popular  constitution.  King  Eadward  is  said 
to  be  chosen  King  by  ‘ all  folk.’  Earl  Godwine  6 makes  his  speech 
before  the  king  and  all  the  people  of  the  land.;  ” 

And  the  implication,  as  Mr.  Freeman  points  out,  is  that  the 
share  taken  by  the  people  in  the  proceedings  was  that  of 
expressing  by  shouts  their  approval  or  disapproval. 

This  form  of  ruling  agency  is  thus  shown  to  be  the  funda- 
mental form,  by  its  presence  at  the  outset  of  social  life  and 
by  its  continuance  under  various  conditions.  Not  among 
peoples  of  superior  types  only,  such  as  Aryans  and  some 
Semites,  do  we  find  it,  but  also  among  sundry  Malayo-Poly- 
nesians,  among  the  red  men  of  North  America,  the  Dravidian 
tribes  of  the  Indian  hills,  the  aborigines  of  Australia.  In 
fact,  as  already  implied,  governmental  organization  could  not 
possibly  begin  in  any  other  way.  On  the  one  hand,  no  con- 
trolling force  at  first  exists  save  that  of  the  aggregate  will  as 
manifested  in  the  assembled  horde.  On  the  other  hand,  lead- 
ing parts  in  determining  this  aggregate  will  are  inevitably 
taken  by  the  few  whose  superiority  is  recognized.  And  of 
5 


316 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


these  predominant  few,  some  one  is  sure  to  be  most  pre- 
dominant. That  which  we  have  to  note  as  specially  significant, 
is  not  that  a free  form  of  government  is  the  primitive  form ; 
though  this  is  an  implication  which  may  be  dwelt  upon.  Nor 
are  we  chiefly  concerned  with  the  fact  that  at  the  very  begin- 
ning there  shows  itself  that  separation  of  the  superior  few 
from  the  inferior  many,  which  becomes  marked  in  later 
stages  ; though  this,  too,  is  a fact  which  may  be  singled  out 
and  emphasized.  Nor  is  attention  to  be  mainly  directed  to 
the  early  appearance  of  a man  whose  controlling  power  is 
greater  than  that  of  any  other ; though  the  evidence  given  may 
be  cited  to  prove  this.  But  here  we  have  to  note,  particularly, 
the  truth  that  at  the  outset  may  be  discerned  the  vague  out- 
lines of  a tri-une  political  structure. 

§ 465.  Of  course  the  ratios  among  the  powers  of  these 
three  components  are  in  no  two  cases  quite  the  same ; and,  as 
implied  in  sundry  of  the  above  examples,  they  everywhere 
undergo  more  or  less  change — change  determined  here  by  the 
emotional  natures  of  the  men  composing  the  group ; there  by 
the  physical  circumstances  as  favouring  or  hindering  inde- 
pendence ; now  by  the  activities  as  warlike  or  peaceful ; and 
now  by  the  exceptional  characters  of  particular  individuals. 

Unusual  sagacity,  skill,  or  strength,  habitually  regarded  by 
primitive  men  as  supernatural,  may  give  to  some  member  of 
the  tribe  an  influence  which,  transmitted  to  a successor  sup- 
posed to  inherit  his  supernatural  character,  establishes  an 
authority  subordinating  both  that  of  the  other  leading  men 
and  that  of  the  mass.  Or  from  a division  of  labour  such  that 
while  some  remain  exclusively  warriors  the  rest  are  in  a 
measure  otherwise  occupied,  it  may  result  that  the  two  supe- 
rior components  of  the  political  agency  get  power  to  over-ride 
the  third.  Or  the  members  of  the  third,  keeping  up  habits 
which  make  coercion  of  them  difficult  or  impossible,  may 
maintain  a general  predominance  over  the  other  two.  And 
then  the  relations  of  these  three  governing  elements  to  the 


POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES. 


317 


entire  community  may,  and  ordinarily  do,  undergo  change  by 
the  formation  of  a passive  class  excluded  from  their  delibera- 
tions— a class  at  first  composed  of  the  women  and  afterwards 
containing  also  the  slaves  or  other  dependents. 

War  successfully  carried  on,  not  only  generates  this  passive 
class,  but  also,  implying  as  it  does  subjection  to  leaders, 
changes  more  or  less  decidedly  the  relative  powers  of  these 
three  parts  of  the  political  agency.  As,  other  things  equal, 
groups  in  which  there  is  little  subordination  are  subjugated 
by  groups  in  which  subordination  is  greater,  there  is  a ten- 
dency to  the  survival  and  spread  of  groups  in  which  the  con- 
trolling power  of  the  dominant  few  becomes  relatively  great. 
In  like  manner,  since  success  in  war  largely  depends  on  that 
promptitude  and  consistency  of  action  which  singleness  of 
will  gives,  there  must,  where  warfare  is  chronic,  be  a tendency 
for  members  of  the  ruling  group  to  become  more  and  more 
obedient  to  its  head : failure  in  the  struggle  for  existence 


among  tribes  otherwise  equal,  being  ordinarily  a consequence 
of  disobedience.  And  then  it  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the 
over-runnings  of  societies  one  by  another,  repeated  and  re- 
repeated as  they  often  are,  have  the  effect  of  obscuring  and 
even  obliterating  the  traces  of  the  original  structure. 

While,  however,  recognizing  the  fact  that  during  political 
evolution  these  three  primitive  components  alter  their  propor-  \ 
tions  in  various  ways  and  degrees,  to  the  extent  that  some  of 
them  become  mere  rudiments  or  wholly  disappear,  it  will 
greatly  alter  our  conception  of  political  forms  if  we  remember 
that  they  are  all  derived  from  this  primitive  form — that  a 
despotism,  an  oligarchy,  or  a democracy,  is  a type  of  govern- 
ment in  which  one  of  the  original  components  has  greatly 
developed  at  the  expense  of  the  other  two;  and  that  the 
various  mixed  types  are  to  be  arranged  according  to  the 
degrees  in  which  one  or  other  of  the  original  components  has 


the  greater  influence. 


§ 466.  Is  there  any  fundamental  unity  of  political  forces 


318 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


accompanying  this  fundamental  unity  of  political  forms? 
While  losing  sight  of  the  common  origin  of  the  structures, 
have  we  not  also  become  inadequately  conscious  of  the 
common  source  of  their  powers  ? How  prone  we  are  to  forget 
the  ultimate  while  thinking  of  the  proximate,  it  may  be  worth 
while  pausing  a moment  to  observe. 

One  who  in  a storm  watches  the  breaking-up  of  a wreck  or 
the  tearing  down  of  a sea-wall,  is  impressed  by  the  immense 
energy  of  the  waves.  Of  course,  when  it  is  pointed  out  that 
in  the  absence  of  winds  no  such  results  can  be  produced,  he 
recognizes  the  truth  that  the  sea  is  in  itself  powerless,  and 
that  the  power  enabling  it  to  destroy  vessels  and  piers  is 
given  by  the  currents  of  air  which  roughen  its  surface.  If  he 
stops  short  here,  however,  he  fails  to  identify  the  force  which 
works  these  striking  changes.  Intrinsically,  the  air  is  just  as 
passive  as  the  water  is.  There  would  be  no  winds  were  it 
not  for  the  varying  effects  of  the  Sun’s  heat  on  different  parts 
of  the  Earth’s  surface.  Even  when  he  has  traced  back  thus 
far  the  energy  which  undermines  cliffs  and  makes  shingle,  he 
has  not  reached  its  source ; for  in  the  absence  of  that  con- 
tinuous concentration  of  the  solar  mass  caused  by  the  mutual 
gravitation  of  its  parts,  there  would  be  no  solar  radiations. 

The  tendency  here  illustrated,  which  all  have  in  some 
degree  and  most  in  a great  degree,  to  associate  power  with  the 
visible  agency  exercising  it  rather  than  with  its  incon- 
spicuous source,  has,  as  above  implied,  a vitiating  influence 
on  conceptions  at  large,  and,  among  others,  on  political  ones. 
Though  the  habit,  general  in  past  times,  of  regarding  the 
powers  of  governments  as  inherent,  has  been,  by  the  growth 
of  popular  institutions,  a good  deal  qualified ; yet,  even  now, 
there  is  no  clear  apprehension  of  the  fact  that  governments 
are  not  themselves  powerful,  but  are  the  instrumentalities  of 
a power.  This  power  existed  before  governments  arose ; 
governments  were  themselves  produced  by  it ; and  it  ever 
continues  to  be  that  which,  disguised  more  or  less  completely, 
works  through  them.  Let  us  go  back  to  the  beginning. 


POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES. 


319 


The  Greenlanders  are  entirely  without  political  control; 
having  nothing  which  represents  it  more  nearly  than  the 
deference  paid  to  the  opinion  of  some  old  man,  skilled  in  seal- 
catching  and  the  signs  of  the  weather.  But  a Greenlander 
who  is  aggrieved  by  another,  has  his  remedy  in  what  is  called 
a singing  combat.  He  composes  a satirical  poem,  and 
challenges  his  antagonist  to  a satirical  duel  in  face  of  the 
tribe : “ he  who  has  the  last  word  wins  the  trial.”  And  then 
Crantz  adds — “ nothing  so  effectually  restrains  a Greenlander 
from  vice,  as  the  dread  of  public  disgrace.”  Here  we  see 
operating  in  its  original  unqualified  way,  that  governing 
influence  of  public  sentiment  which  precedes  more  special 
governing  influences.  The  dread  of  social  reprobation  is 

in  some  cases  enforced  by  the  dread  of  banishment.  Among 
the  otherwise  unsubordinated  Australians,  they  “ punish  each 
other  for  such  offences  as  theft,  sometimes  by  expulsion  from 
the  camp.”  Of  one  of  the  Columbian  tribes  we  read  that 
“ the  Salish  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  any  regular  form  of 
government and  then,  further,  we  read  that  “ criminals  are 
sometimes  punished  by  banishment  from  their  tribe.”  Certain 
aborigines  of  the  Indian  hills,  widely  unlike  these  Columbians 
in  type  and  in  mode  of  life,  show  us  a similar  relation  between 
undeveloped  political  restraint  and  the  restraint  of  aggregate 
feeling.  Among  the  Bodo  and  the  Dhimals,  whose  village 
heads  are  simply  respected  elders  with  no  coercive  powers, 
those  who  offend  against  customs  “ are  admonished,  fined,  or 
excommunicated,  according  to  the  degree  of  the  offence.” 
But  the  controlling  influence  of  public  sentiment  in  groups 
which  have  ^little  or  no  organization,  is  best  shown  in  the 
force  with  which  it  acts  on  those  who  are  bound  to  avenge 
murders.  Concerning  the  Australian  aborigines,  Sir  George 
Grey  writes : — 

“ The  holiest  duty  a native  is  called  on  to  perform  is  that  of  avenging 
the  death  of  his  nearest  relation,  for  it  is  his  peculiar  duty  to  do  so  ; 
until  he  has  fulfilled  this  task,  he  is  constantly  taunted  by  the  old 
women  ; his  wives,  if  he  is  married,  would  soon  quit  him ; if  he  is  un- 
married, not  a single  young  woman  would  speak  to  him ; his  mother 


320 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


would  constantly  cry,  and  lament  that  she  should  ever  have  given 
birth  to  so  degenerate  a son  ; his  father  would  treat  him  with  contempt, 
and  reproaches  would  constantly  be  sounded  in  his  ear.” 

We  have  next  to  note  that  for  a long  time  after  political 
control  has  made  its  appearance,  it  remains  conspicuously 
subordinate  to  this  control  of  general  feeling ; both  because, 
while  there  are  no  developed  governmental  structures,  the 
head  man  has  but  little  ability  to  enforce  his  will,  and  because 
such  ability  as  he  has,  if  unduly  exercised,  causes  desertion. 
All  parts  of  the  world  furnish  illustrations.  In  America 
among  the  Snake  Indians  “ each  individual  is  his  own  master, 
and  the  only  control  to  which  his  conduct  is  subjected,  is  the 
advice  of  a chief  supported  by  his  influence  over  the  opinions 
of  the  rest  of  the  tribe.”  Of  a Chinook  chief  w~e  are  told 
that  his  ability  to  render  service  to  his  neighbours,  and  the 
popularity  which  follows  it,  is  at  once  the  foundation  and  the 
measure  of  his  authority.”  If  a Dakota  “ wishes  to  do  mis- 
chief, the  only  way  a chief  can  influence  him  is  to  give  him 
something,  or  pay  him  to  desist  from  his  evil  intentions.  The 
chief  has  no  authority  to  act  for  the  tribe,  and  dare  not  do  it.” 
And  among  the  Creeks,  more  advanced  in  political  organiza- 
tion though  they  are,  the  authority  of  the  elected  chiefs  “ con- 
tinues during  good  behaviour.  The  disapproval  of  the  body 
of  the  people  is  an  effective  bar  to  the  exercise  of  their  powers 
and  functions.”  Turning  to  Asia,  we  read  that  the 

bais  or  chiefs  of  the  Khirgiz  “ have  little  power  over  them  for 
good  or  evil.  In  consideration  of  their  age  and  blood,  some 
deference  to  their  opinions  is  shown,  but  nothing  more.” 
The  Ostyaks  “ pay  respect,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word,  to 
their  chief,  if  wise  and  valiant,  but  this  homage  is  voluntary, 
and  founded  on  personal  regard.”  And  of  the  Naga  chiefs 
Butler  says — “ Their  orders  are  obeyed  so  .far  only  as  they 
accord  with  the  wishes  and  convenience  of  the  com- 
munity.” So,  too,  is  it  in  parts  of  Africa ; as  instance 

the  Koranna  Hottentots.  “ A chief  or  captain  presides  over 
each  clan  or  kraal,  being  usually  the  person  of  greatest  pro- 


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321 


perty;  but  his  authority  is  extremely  limited,  and  only  obeyed 
so  far  as  it  meets  the  general  approbation.”  And  even  among 
the  more  politically-organized  Kaffirs,  there  is  a kindred 
restraint.  The  king  “ makes  laws  and  executes  them  according 
to  his  sole  will.  Yet  there  is  a.  power  to  balance  his  in  the 
people:  he  governs  only  so  long  as  they  choose  to  obey.” 
They  leave  him  if  he  governs  ill. 

In  its  primitive  form,  then,  political  power  is  the  feeling  of 
the  community,  acting  through  an  agency  which  it  has  either 
informally  or  formally  established.  Doubtless,  from  the 
beginning,  the  power  of  the  chief  is  in  part  personal : his 
greater  strength,  courage,  or  cunning,  enables  him  in  some 
degree  to  enforce  his  individual  will.  But,  as  the  evidence 
shows,  his  individual  will  is  but  a small  factor ; and  the  autho- 
rity he  wields  is  proportionate  to  the  degree  in  which  he 
expresses  the  wills  of  the  rest. 

§ 467.  While  this  public  feeling,  which  first  acts  by  itself 
and  then  partly  through  an  agent,  is  to  some  extent  the  feeling 
spontaneously  formed  by  those  concerned,  it  is  to  a much 
larger  extent  the  opinion  imposed  on  them  or  prescribed  for 
them.  In  the  first  place,  the  emotional  nature  prompting 
the  general  mode  of  conduct  is  derived  from  ancestors — is  a 
product  of  all  ancestral  activities ; and  in  the  second  place, 
the  special  desires  which,  directly  or  indirectly,  determine 
the  courses  pursued,  are  induced  during  early  life  by  seniors, 
and  enlisted  on  behalf  of  beliefs  and  usages  which  the  tribe 
inherits.  The  governing  sentiment  is,  in  short,  mainly  the 
accumulated  and  organized  sentiment  of  the  past. 

It  needs  but  to  remember  the  painful  initiation  which,  at  a 
prescribed  age,  each  member  of  a tribe  undergoes  (submitting 
to  circumcision,  or  knocking  out  of  teeth,  or  gashing  of  the 
flesh,  or  tatooing) — it  needs  but  to  remember  that  from  these 
imperative  customs  there  is  no  escape;  to  see  that  the 
directive  force  which  exists  before  a political  agency  arises, 
and  which  afterwards  makes  the  political  agency  its  organ, 


322 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


is  the  gradually-formed  opinion  of  countless  preceding  gene- 
rations ; or  rather,  not  the  opinion,  which,  strictly  speaking, 
is  an  intellectual  product  wholly  impotent,  but  the  emotion 
associated  with  the  opinion.  This  w^e  everywhere  find  to  be 
at  the  outset  the  chief  controlling  power. 

The  notion  of  the  Tupis  that  “ if  they  departed  from  the 
customs  of  their  forefathers  they  should  be  destroyed,”  may 
be  named  as  a definite  manifestation  of  the  force  with  which 
this  transmitted  opinion  acts.  In  one  of  the  rudest  tribes  of 
the  Indian  hills,  the  Juangs,  less  clothed  than  even  Adam 
and  Eve  are  said  to  have  been,  the  women  long  adhered  to 
their  bunches  of  leaves  in  the  belief  that  change  was  wrong. 
Of  the  Koranna  Hottentots  we  read  that  “ when  ancient 
usages  are  not  in  the  way,  every  man  seems  to  act  as  is  right 
in  his  own  eyes.”  Though  the  Damara  chiefs  “have  the 
power  of  governing  arbitrarily,  yet  they  venerate  the  tradi- 
tions and  customs  of  their  ancestors.”  Smith  says,  “laws 
the  Araucanians  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have,  though  there 
are  many  ancient  usages  which  they  hold  sacred  and  strictly 
observe.”  According  to  Brooke,  among  the  Dyaks  custom 
simply  seems  to  have  become  law,  and  breaking  the  custom 
leads  to  a fine.  In  the  minds  of  some  clans  of  the  Malagasy, 
“ innovation  and  injury  are  ....  inseparable,  and  the  idea 
of  improvement  altogether  inadmissible.” 

This  control  by  inherited  usages  is  not  simply  as  strong 
in  groups  of  men  who  are  politically  unorganized,  or  but 
little  organized,  as  it  is  in  advanced  tribes  and  nations,  but  it 
is  stronger.  As  Sir  John  Lubbock  remarks — “No  savage  is 
free.  All  over  the  world  his  daily  life  is  regulated  by  a 
complicated  and  apparently  most  inconvenient  set  of  customs 
(as  forcible  as  laws),  of  quaint  prohibitions  and  privileges.” 
Though  one  of  these  rude  societies  appears  structureless, 
yet  its  ideas  and  usages  form  a kind  of  invisible  framework 
for  it,  serving  rigorously  to  restrain  certain  classes  of  its 
actions.  And  this  invisible  framework  has  been  slowly  and 
unconsciously  shaped,  during  daily  activities  impelled  by  pre- 


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323 


vailing  feelings  and  guided  by  prevailing  thoughts,  through 
generations  stretching  back  into  the  far  past. 

In  brief,  then,  before  any  definite  agency  for  social  control 
is  developed,  there  exists  a control  arising  partly  from  the 
public  opinion  of  the  living,  and  more  largely  from  the  public 
opinion  of  the  dead. 

§ 468.  But  now  let  us  note  definitely  a truth  implied  in 
some  of  the  illustrations  above  given — the  truth  that  when  a 
political  agency  has  been  evolved,  its  power,  largely  de- 
pendent on  present  public  opinion,  is  otherwise  almost  wholly 
dependent  on  past  public  opinion.  The  ruler,  in  part  the 
organ  of  the  wills  of  those  around,  is  in  a still  greater  degree 
the  organ  of  the  wills  of  those  who  have  passed  away ; and 
his  own  will,  much  restrained  by  the  first,  is  still  more 
restrained  by  the  last. 

For  his  function  as  regulator  is  mainly  that  of  enforcing 
the  inherited  rules  of  conduct  which  embody  ancestral  senti- 
ments and  ideas.  Everywhere  we  are  shown  this.  Among 
the  Arafuras  such  decisions  as  are  given  by  their  elders,  are 
“according  to  the  customs  of  their  forefathers,  which  are  held 
in  the  highest  regard.”  So  is  it  with  the  Khirgiz  : “ the  judg- 
ments of  the  Bis,  or  esteemed  elders,  are  based  on  the  known 
and  universally-recognized  customs.”  And  in  Sumatra  “ they 
are  governed,  in  their  various  disputes,  by  a set  of  long- 
established  customs  ( adat ),  handed  down  to  them  from  their 
ancestors.  . . . The  chiefs,  in  pronouncing  their  decisions,  are 
not  heard  to  say,  "so  the  law  directs/  but  "such  is  the 
custom/  ” 

As  fast  as  custom  passes  into  law,  the  political  head  be- 
comes still  more  clearly  an  agent  through  whom  the  feelings  of 
the  dead  control  the  actions  of  the  living.  That  the  power 
he  exercises  is  mainly  a power  which  acts  through  him,  we 
see  on  noting  how  little  ability  he  has  to  resist  it  if  he 
wishes  to  do  so.  His  individual  will  is  practically  in- 
operative save  where  the  overt  or  tacit  injunctions  of  departed 


324 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


generations  leave  him  free.  Thus  in  Madagascar,  “ in  cases 
where  there  is  no  law,  custom,  or  precedent,  the  word  of  the 
sovereign  is  sufficient/'  Among  the  East  Africans,  “ the  only 
limit  to  the  despot's  power  is  the  Ada  or  precedent/’  Of  the 
J avans,  Raffles  writes — “ the  only  restraint  upon  the  will  of 
the  head  of  the  government  is  the  custom  of  the  country, 
and  the  regard  which  he  has  for  his  character  among  his  sub- 
jects/’ In  Sumatra  the  people  “do  not  acknowledge  a right 
in  the  chiefs  to  constitute  what  laws  they  think  proper,  or  to 
repeal  or  alter  their  ancient  usages,  of  which  they  are 
extremely  tenacious  and  jealous.”  And  how  imperative  is  con- 
formity to  the  beliefs  and  sentiments  of  progenitors,  is  shown 
by  the  fatal  results  apt  to  occur  from  disregarding  them. 

66  ‘ The  King  of  Ashantee,  although  represented  as  a despotic  monarch 
....  is  not  in  all  respects  beyond  control/  He  is  under  an  4 obliga- 
tion to  observe  the  national  customs  which  have  been  handed  down  to 
the  people  from  remote  antiquity ; and  a practical  disregard  of  this 
obligation,  in  the  attempt  to  change  some  of  the  customs  of  their  fore- 
fathers, cost  Osai  Quamina  his  throne/  ” 

Which  instance  reminds  us  how  commonly,  as  now  among 
the  Hottentots,  as  in  the  past  among  the  ancient  Mexicans, 
and  as  throughout  the  histories  of  civilized  peoples,  rulers 
have  engaged,  on  succeeding  to  power,  not  to  change  the  esta- 
blished order. 

§ 469.  Doubtless  the  proposition  that  a government  is  in 
the  main  but  an  agency  through  which  works  the  force  of 
public  feeling,  present  and  past,  seems  at  variance  with  the 
many  facts  showing  how  great  may  be  the  power  of  a ruling 
man  himself.  Saying  nothing  of  a tyrant's  ability  to  take 
lives  for  nominal  reasons  or  none  at  all,  to  make  groundless 
confiscations,  to  transfer  subjects  bodily  from  one  place  to 
another,  to  exact  contributions  of  money  and  labour  without 
stint,  we  are  apparently  shown  by  his  ability  to  begin  and 
carry  on  wars  which  sacrifice  his  subjects  wholesale,  that  his 
single  will  may  over-ride  the  united  wills  of  all  others.  In 
what  way,  then,  must  the  original  statement  be  qualified  ? 


POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES. 


325 


While  holding  that,  in  unorganized  groups  of  men,  the 
feeling  manifested  as  public  opinion  controls  political  con- 
duct, just  as  it  controls  the  conduct  distinguished  as  cere- 
monial and  religious;  and  while  holding  that  governing 
agencies,  during  their  early  stages,  are  at  once  the  products 
of  aggregate  feeling,  derive  their  powers  from  it,  and  are 
restrained  by  it ; we  must  admit  that  these  primitive  re-  i 
lations  become  complicated  when,  by  war,  small  groups  are 
compounded  and  re-compounded  into  great  ones.  Where  the 
society  is  largely  composed  of  subjugated  people  held  down 
by  superior  force,  the  normal  relation  above  described  no 
longer  exists.  We  must  not  expect  to  find  in  a rule  coercively 
established  by  an  invader,  the  same  traits  as  in  a rule  that 
has  grown  up  from  within.  Societies  formed  by  conquest  may 
be,  and  frequently  are,  composed  of  two  societies,  which  are 
in  large  measure,  if  not  entirely,  alien ; and  in  them  there 
cannot  arise  a political  force  from  the  aggregate  wilL  Under 
such  conditions  the  political  head  either  derives  his  power 
exclusively  from  the  feeling  of  the  dominant  class,  or  else, 
setting  the  diverse  feelings  originated  in  the  upper  and  lower 
classes,  one  against  the  other,  is  enabled  so  to  make  his  indi- 
vidual will  the  chief  factor. 

After  making  which  qualifications,  however,  it  may  still  be 
contended  that  ordinarily,  nearly  all  the  force  exercised  by 
the  governing  agency  originates  from  the  feeling,  if  not  of  the  £ 
whole  community,  yet  of  the  part  which  is  able  to  manifest 
its  feeling.  Though  the  opinion  of  the  subjugated  and  un- 
armed lower  society  becomes  of  little  account  as  a political 
factor,  yet  the  opinion  of  the  dominant  and  armed  upper 
society  continues  to  be  the  main  cause  of  political  action. 
What  we  are  told  of  the  Congo  people,  that  “ the  king,  who 
reigns  as  a despot  over  the  people,  is  often  disturbed  in  the 
exercise  of  his  power  by  the  princes  his  vassals,” — what  we 
are  told  of  the  despotically-governed  Dahomans,  that  “ the 
ministers,  war-captains,  and  feetishers  may  be,  and  often  are, 
individually  punished  by  the  king : collectively  they  are  too 


326 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


strong  for  him,  and  without  their  cordial  cooperation  he  would 
soon  cease  to  reign is  wrhat  we  recognize  as  having  been 
true,  and  as  being  still  true,  in  various  better-known  societies 
where  the  supreme  head  is  nominally  absolute.  From 
the  time  when  the  Koman  emperors  were  chosen  by  the 
soldiers  and  slain  when  they  did  not  please  them,  to  the 
present  time  wThen,  as  we  are  told  of  Kussia,  the  desire  of  the 
army  often  determines  the  will  of  the  Czar,  there  have  been 
many  illustrations  of  the  truth  that  an  autocrat  is  politically 
strong  or  weak  according  as  many  or  few  of  the  influential 
classes  give  him  their  support ; and  that  even  the  sentiments  of 
those  who  are  politically  prostrate  occasionally  affect  political 
action ; as  instance  the  influence  of  Turkish  fanaticism  over 
the  decisions  of  the  Sultan. 

A number  of  facts  must  be  remembered  if  vre  are  rightly 
to  estimate  the  power  of  the  aggregate  will  in  comparison 
with  the  power  of  the  autocrat’s  will.  There  is  the  fact  that 
the  autocrat  is  obliged  to  respect  and  maintain  the  great  mass 
of  institutions  and  laws  produced  by  past  sentiments  and 
ideas,  which  have  acquired  a religious  sanction ; so  that,  as  in 
ancient  Egypt,  dynasties  of  despots  live  and  die  leaving  the 
social  order  essentially  unchanged.  There  is  the  fact  that  a 
serious  change  of  the  social  order,  at  variance  writh  general 
feeling,  is  likely  afterwards  to  be  reversed ; as  when,  in  Egypt, 
Amenhotep  IV.,  spite  of  a rebellion,  succeeded  in  establishing 
a new  religion,  which  was  abolished  in  a succeeding  reign ; and 
there  is  the  allied  fact  that  laws  much  at  variance  with  the 
general  will  prove  abortive,  as,  for  instance,  the  sumptuary 
laws  made  by  medieval  kings,  which,  continually  re-enacted, 
continually  failed.  There  is  the  fact  that,  supreme  as  he  may 
be,  and  divine  as  the  nature  ascribed  to  him,  the  all-powerful 
monarch  is  often  shackled  by  usages  which  make  his  daily 
life  a slavery  : the  opinions  of  the  living  oblige  him  to  fulfil 
the  dictates  of  the  dead.  There  is  the  fact  that  if  he  does  not 
conform,  or  if  he  otherwise  produces  by  his  acts  much 
adverse  feeling,  his  servants,  civil  and  military,  refuse  to  act, 


POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES. 


327 


or  turn  against  him ; and  in  extreme  cases  there  comes  an 
example  of  “ despotism  tempered  by  assassination.”  And 
there  is  the  final  fact  that  habitually  in  societies  where 
an  offending  autocrat  is  from  time  to  time  removed,  another 
autocrat  is  set  up  : the  implication  being  that  the  average 
sentiment  is  of  a kind  which  not  only  tolerates  but  desires 
autocracy.  That  which  some  call  loyalty  and  others  call 
servility,  both  creates  the  absolute  ruler  and  gives  him  the 
power  he  exercises. 

But  the  cardinal  truth,  difficult  adequately  to  appreciate,  is 
that  while  the  forms  and  laws  of  each  society  are  the  consoli- 
dated products  of  the  emotions  and  ideas  of  those  who  lived 
throughout  the  past,  they  are  made  operative  by  the  subordi- 
nation of  existing  emotions  and  ideas  to  them.  We  are 
familiar  with  the  thought  of  “ the  dead  hand  ” as  controlling 
the  doings  of  the  living  in  the  uses  made  of  property ; but 
the  effect  of  “ the  dead  hand  ” in  ordering  life  at  large  through 
the  established  political  system,  is  immeasureably  greater. 
That  which,  from  hour  to  hour  in  every  country,  governed 
despotically  or  otherwise,  produces  the  obedience  making 
political  action  possible,  is  the  accumulated  and  organized 
sentiment  felt  towards  inherited  institutions  made  sacred  by 
tradition.  Hence  it  is  undeniable  that,  taken  in  its  widest 
acceptation,  the  feeling  of  the  community  is  the  sole  source  of 
political  power : in  those  communities,  at  least,  which  are  not 
under  foreign  domination.  It  was  so  at  the  outset  of  social 
life,  and  it  still  continues  substantially  so. 

§ 470.  It  has  come  to  be  a maxim  of  science  that  in  the 
causes  still  at  work,  are  to  be  identified  the  causes  which, 
similarly  at  work  during  past  times,  have  produced  the  state 
of  things  now  existing.  Acceptance  of  this  maxim,  and  pur- 
suit of  the  inquiries  suggested  by  it,  lead  to  verifications  of 
the  foregoing  conclusions. 

For  day  after  day,  every  public  meeting  illustrates  afresh 
this  same  differentiation  characterizing  the  primitive  political 


328 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


agency,  and  illustrates  afresh  the  actions  of  its  respective 
parts.  There  is  habitually  the  great  body  of  the  less  distin- 
guished, forming  the  audience,  whose  share  in  the  proceed- 
ings consists  in  expressing  approval  or  disapproval,  and  say- 
ing aye  or  no  to  the  resolutions  proposed.  There  is  the 
smaller  part,  occupying  the  platform — the  men  whose  wealth, 
rank,  or  capacity,  give  them  influence — the  local  chiefs,  by 
whom  the  discussions  are  carried  on.  And  there  is  the  chosen 
head,  commonly  the  man  of  greatest  mark  to  be  obtained, 
who  exercises  a recognized  power  over  speakers  and  audience 
— the  temporary  king.  Even  an  informally-summoned 
assemblage  soon  resolves  itself  into  these  divisions  more  or 
less  distinctly ; and  when  the  assemblage  becomes  a perma- 
nent body,  as  of  the  men  composing  a commercial  company, 
or  a philanthropic  society,  or  a club,  definiteness  is  quickly 
given  to  the  three  divisions — president  or  chairman,  board  or 
committee,  proprietors  or  members.  To  which  add  that, 
though  at  first,  like  the  meeting  of  the  primitive  horde  or  the 
modern  public  meeting,  one  of  these  permanent  associations 
voluntarily  formed,  exhibits  a distribution  of  powers  such 
that  the  select  few  and  their  head  are  subordinate  to  the 
mass ; yet,  as  circumstances  determine,  the  proportions  of  the 
respective  powers  usually  change  more  or  less  decidedly. 
Where  the  members  of  the  mass  besides  being  much  interested 
in  the  transactions,  are  so  placed  that  they  can  easily  co- 
operate, they  hold  in  check  the  select  few  and  their  head ; 
but  where  wide  distribution,  as  of  railway-shareholders, 
hinders  joint  action,  the  select  few  become,  in  large  measure, 
an  oligarchy,  and  out  of  the  oligarchy  there  not  unfrequently 
grows  an  autocrat : the  constitution  becomes  a despotism 
tempered  by  revolution. 

In  saying  that  from  hour  to  hour  proofs  occur  that  the 
force  possessed  by  a political  agency  is  derived  from  aggregate 
feeling,  partly  embodied  in  the  consolidated  system  which  has 
come  down  from  the  past,  and  partly  excited  by  immediate 
circumstances,  I do  not  refer  only  to  the  proofs  that  among 


POLITICAL  FORMS  AND  FORCES. 


329 


ourselves  governmental  actions  are  habitually  thus  determined, 
and  that  the  actions  of  all  minor  bodies,  temporarily  or  per- 
manently incorporated,  are  thus  determined.  I refer,  rather, 
to  illustrations  of  the  irresistible  control  exercised  by  popular 
sentiment  over  conduct  at  large.  Such  facts  as  that,  while 
general  opinion  is  in  favour  of  duelling  law  does  not  prevent 
it,  and  that  sacred  injunctions  backed  by  threats  of  damnation, 
fail  to  check  iniquitous  aggressions  on  foreign  peoples  when 
the  prevailing  passions  prompt  them,  alone  suffice  to  show 
that  legal  codes  and  religious  creeds,  with  the  agencies  en- 
forcing them,  are  impotent  in  face  of  an  adverse  state  of  mind. 
On  remembering  the  eagerness  for  public  applause  and  the 
dread  of  public  disgrace  which  stimulate  and  restrain  men,  we 
cannot  question  that  the  diffused  manifestations  of  feeling 
habitually  dictate  their  careers,  when  their  immediate  neces- 
sities have  been  satisfied.  It  requires  only  to  contemplate 
the  social  code  which  regulates  life,  down  even  to  the  colour 
of  an  evening  neck-tie,  and  to  note  how  those  who  dare  not 
break  this  code  have  no  hesitation  in  smuggling,  to  see  that 
an  unwritten  law  enforced  by  opinion  is  more  peremptory 
than  a written  law  not  so  enforced.  And  still  more  on  ob- 
serving that  men  disregard  the  just  claims  of  creditors,  who 
for  goods  given  cannot  get  the  money,  while  they  are  anxious 
to  discharge  so-called  debts  of  honour  to  those  who  have 
rendered  neither  goods  nor  services,  we  are  shown  that  the 
control  of  prevailing  sentiment,  unenforced  by  law  and  reli- 
gion, may  be  more  potent  than  law  and  religion  together 
when  they  are  backed  by  sentiment  less  strongly  manifested. 
Looking  at  the  total  activities  of  men,  we  are  obliged  to  admit 
that  they  are  still,  as  they  were  at  the  outset  of  social  life, 
guided  by  the  aggregate  feeling,  past  and  present ; and  that 
the  political  agency,  itself  a gradually-developed  product  of 
such  feeling,  continues  still  to  be  in  the  main  the  vehicle  for 
a specialized  portion  of  it,  regulating  actions  of  certain  kinds. 

Partly,  of  course,  I am  obliged  here  to  set  forth  this  general 
truth  as  an  essential  element  of  political  theory.  My  excuse 


330 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


for  insisting  at  some  length  on  what  appears  to  be  a trite  con- 
clusion, must  be  that,  however  far  nominally  recognized,  it  is 
actually  recognized  to  a very  small  extent.  Even  in  our  own 
country,  where  non- political  agencies  spontaneously  produced 
and  worked  are  many  and  large,  and  still  more  in  most  other 
countries  less  characterized  by  them,  there  is  no  due  con- 
sciousness of  the  truth  that  the  combined  impulses  which  work 
through  political  agencies,  can,  in  the  absence  of  such  agencies, 
produce  others  through  which  to  work.  Politicians  reason  as 
though  State-instrumentalities  have  intrinsic  power,  which 
they  have  not,  and  as  though  the  feeling  which  creates  them 
has  not  intrinsic  power,  which  it  has.  Evidently  their 
actions  must  be  greatly  affected  by  reversal  of  these  ideas. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 


POLITICAL  HEADS— CHIEFS,  KINGS,  etc. 

§ 471.  Of  the  three  components  of  the  tri-une  political  struc- 
ture traceable  at  the  outset,  we  have  now  to  follow  the  develop- 
ment of  the  first.  Already  in  the  last  two  chapters  something 
has  been  said,  and  more  has  been  implied,  respecting  that 
most  important  differentiation  which  results  in  the  establish- 
ment of  a headship.  What  was  there  indicated  under  its 
general  aspects  has  here  to  be  elaborated  under  its  special 
aspects. 

“ When  Eink  asked  the  Nicobarians  who  among  them  was 
the  chief,  they  replied  laughing,  how  could  he  believe  that 
one  could  have  power  against  so  many  V I quote  this  as  a 
reminder  that  there  is,  at  first,  resistance  to  the  assumption 
of  supremacy  by  one  member  of  a group — resistance  which, 
though  in  some  types  of  men  small,  is  in  most  considerable, 
and  in  a few  very  great.  To  instances  already  given  of  tribes 
practically  chief  less  may  be  added,  from  America,  the  Haidahs, 
among  whom  “ the  people  seemed  all  equal the  Californian 
tribes,  among  whom  “ each  individual  does  as  he  likes the 
Navajos,  among  whom  "each  is  sovereign  in  his  own  right  as 
a warrior and  from  Asia  the  Angamies,  who  “ have  no 
recognized  head  or  chief,  although  they  elect  a spokesman, 
who,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  is  powerless  and  irrespon  - 
sible” 

Such  small  subordination  as  rude  groups  show,  occurs  only 


332 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


when  the  need  for  joint  action  is  imperative,  and  control  is 
required  to  make  it  efficient.  Instead  of  recalling  before- 
named  examples  of  temporary  chieftainship,  I may  here  give 
some  others.  Of  the  Lower  Californians  we  read — “ In  hunt- 
ing and  war  they  have  one  or  more  chiefs  to  lead  them,  who 
are  selected  only  for  the  occasion.”  Of  the  Flatheads’  chiefs 
it  is  said  that  “ with  the  war  their  power  ceases/5  Among 
the  Sound  Indians  the  chief  “has  no  authority,  and  only 
directs  the  movements  of  his  band  in  warlike  incursions.” 

As  observed  under  another  head,  this  primitive  insubordi- 
nation has  greater  or  less  play  according  as  the  environment 
and  the  habits  of  life  hinder  or  favour  coercion.  The  Lower 
Californians,  above  instanced  as  chiefless,  Baegert  says 
resemble  “ herds  of  wild  swine,  which  run  about  according 
to  their  own  liking,  being  together  to-day  and  scattered  to- 
morrow, till  they  meet  again  by  accident  at  some  future  time.” 
“ The  chiefs  among  the  Chipewyans  are  now  totally  without 
power,”  says  Franklin;  and  these  people  exist  as  small 
migratory  bands.  Of  the  Abipones,  who  are  “ impatient  of 
agriculture  and  a fixed  home,”  and  “ are  continually  moving 
from  place  to  place,”  Dobrizhoffer  writes — “they  neither  revere 
their  cacique  as  a master,  nor  pay  him  tribute  or  attendance 
as  is  usual  with  other  nations.”  The  like  holds  under  like 
conditions  with  other  races  remote  in  type.  Of  the  Bedouins 
Burckhardt  remarks  “ the  sheikh  has  no  fixed  authority and 
according  to  another  writer  “ a chief,  who  has  drawn  the  bond 
of  allegiance  too  tight,  is  deposed  or  abandoned,  and  becomes 
a mere  member  of  a tribe  or  remains  without  one.” 

And  now,  having  noted  the  original  absence  of  political 
control,  the  resistance  it  meets  with,  and  the  circumstances 
which  facilitate  evasion  of  it,  we  may  ask  what  causes  aid  its 
growth.  There  are  several ; and  chieftainship  becomes  settled 
in  proportion  as  they  cooperate. 

§ 472.  Among  the  members  of  the  primitive  group,  slightly 
unlike  in  various  ways  and  degrees,  there  is  sure  to  be  some 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


333 


one  who  has  a recognized  superiority.  This  superiority  may 
be  of  several  kinds  which  we  will  briefly  glance  at. 

Though  in  a sense  abnormal,  the  cases  must  be  recognized 
in  which  the  superiority  is  that  of  an  alien  immigrant.  The 
headmen  of  the  Khonds  “ are  usually  descended  from  some 
daring  adventurer”  of  Hindoo  blood.  Forsyth  remarks  the 
like  of  “ most  of  the  chiefs  ” in  the  highlands  of  Central  Asia. 
And  the  traditions  of  Bochica  among  the  Ghibchas,  Amalivaca 
among  the  Tamanacs,  and  Quetzalcoatl  among  the  Mexicans, 
imply  kindred  origins  of  chieftainships.  Here,  however,  we 
are  mainly  concerned  with  superiorities  arising  within  the 
tribe. 

The  first  to  be  named  is  that  which  goes  with  seniority. 
Though  age,  when  it  brings  incapacity,  is  often  among  rude 
peoples  treated  with  such  disregard  that  the  old  are  killed  or 
left  to  die,  yet,  so  long  as  capacity  remains,  the  greater  expe- 
rience accompanying  age  generally  insures  influence.  The 
cliiefless  Esquimaux  show  “ deference  to  seniors  and  strong 
men.”  Burchell  says  that  over  the  Bushmen,  old  men  seem 
to  exercise  the  authority  of  chiefs  to  some  extent ; and  the 
like  holds  true  with  the  natives  of  Australia.  Among  the 
Fuegians  “ the  word  of  an  old  man  is  accepted  as  law  by  the 
young  people.”  Each  party  of  Bock  Veddahs  “has  a head- 
man, the  most  energetic  senior  of  the  tribe,”  who  divides  the 
honey,  &c.  Even  with  sundry  peoples  more  advanced  the 
like  holds.  The  Dyaks  in  North  Borneo  “ have  no  established 
chiefs,  but  follow  the  counsels  of  the  old  man  to  whom  they 
are  related;”  and  Edwards  says  of  the  ungoverned  Caribs 
that  “ to  their  old  men,  indeed,  they  allowed  some  kind  of 
authority.” 

Naturally,  in  rude  societies,  the  strong  hand  gives  predomi- 
nance. Apart  from  the  influence  of  age,  “bodily  strength 
alone  procures  distinction  among  ” the  Bushmen.  The  leaders 
of  the  Tasmanians  were  tall  and  powerful  men : “ instead  of 
an  elective  or  hereditary  chieftancy,  the  place  of  command 
was  yielded  up  to  the  bully  of  the  tribe.”  A remark  of 


334 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Sturt’s  implies  a like  origin  of  supremacy  among  the  Austra- 
lians. Similarly  in  South  America.  Of  people  on  the 
Tapajos,  Bates  tells  us  that  “ the  footmarks  of  the  chief  could 
be  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  their  great  size  and  the 
length  of  the  stride.”  And  in  Bedouin  tribes  “ the  fiercest, 
the  strongest,  and  the  craftiest  obtains  complete  mastery  over 
his  fellows.”  During  higher  stages  physical  vigour  long  con- 
tinues to  be  an  all-important  qualification;  as  in  Homeric 
Greece,  where  even  age  did  not  compensate  for  decline  of 
strength : “ an  old  chief,  such  as  Peleus  and  Laertes,  cannot 
retain  his  position.”  Everyone  knows  that  throughout 
Mediaeval  Europe,  maintenance  of  headship  largely  depended 
on  bodily  prowess.  And  even  but  two  centuries  ago  in  the 
Western  Isles  of  Scotland,  “ every  Heir,  or  young  Chieftain  of 
a Tribe,  wras  oblig’d  in  Honour  to  give  a publick  Specimen  of 
his  Valour,  before  he  was  own’d  and  declar’d  Governor.” 

Mental  superiority,  alone  or  joined  with  other  attributes, 
is  a common  cause  of  predominance.  With  the  Snake  Indians, 
the  chief  is  no  more  than  “the  most  confidential  person 
among  the  warriors.”  Schoolcraft  says  of  the  chief  acknow- 
ledged by  the  Creeks  that  “ he  is  emiuent  with  the  people 
only  for  his  superior  talents  and  political  abilities and  that 
over  the  Comanches  “the  position  of  a chief  is  not  hereditary, 
but  the  result  of  his  own  superior  cunning,  knowledge,  or 
success  in  war.”  A chief  of  the  Coroados  is  one  “ who  by  his 
strength,  cunning,  and  courage  had  obtained  some  command 
over  them.”  And  the  Ostiaks  “ pay  respect,  in  the  fullest 
sense  of  the  word,  to  their  chief,  if  wise  and  valiant;  but  this 
homage  is  voluntary,  and  not  a prerogative  of  his  position.” 

Yet  another  source  of  governmental  power  in  primitive 
tribes  is  largeness  of  possessions:  wealth  being  at  once  an 
indirect  mark  of  superiority  and  a direct  cause  of  influence. 
With  the  Tacullies  “any  person  may  become  a minty  or  chief 
who  will  occasionally  provide  a village  feast.”  “ Among  the 
Tolewas,  in  Del  Norte  Country,  money  makes  the  chief.” 
The  Spokanes  have  “ no  regularly  recognized  chief,”  “ but  an 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC.  335 

intelligent  and  rich  man  often  controls  the  tribe  by  his 
influence.”  Of  the  chiefless  ISTavajos  we  read  that  “ every 
rich  man  has  many  dependants,  and  these  dependants  are 
obedient  to  his  will,  in  peace  and  in  war.”  And  to  other 
evidence  that  it  is  the  same  in  Africa,  may  be  added  the  state- 
ment of  Heuglin  that  “ a Dor  chief  is  generally  the  richest 
and  most  reputable  man  of  the  village  or  neighbourhood.” 

But,  naturally,  in  societies  not  yet  politically  developed, 
acknowledged  superiority  is  ever  liable  to  be  competed  with 
or  replaced  by  superiority  arising  afresh. 

“ If  an  Arab,  accompanied  by  his  own  relations  only,  has  been  suc- 
cessful on  many  predatory  excursions  against  the  enemy,  he  is  joined 
by  other  friends ; and  if  his  success  still  continues,  he  obtains  the  repu- 
tation of  being  i lucky  f and  he  thus  establishes  a kind  of  second,  or 
inferior  agydship  in  the  tribe.” 

So  in  Sumatra — 

“A  commanding  aspect,  an  insinuating  manner,  a ready  fluency  in 
discourse,  and  a penetration  and  sagacity  in  unravelling  the  little  in- 
tricacies of  their  disputes,  are  qualities  which  seldom  fail  to  procure  to 
their  possessor  respect  and  influence,  sometimes,  perhaps,  superior  to 
that  of  an  acknowledged  chief.” 

And  supplantings  of  kindred  kinds  occur  among  the  Tongans 
and  the  Dyaks. 

At  the  outset  then,  what  we  before  distinguished  as  the 
principle  of  efficiency  is  the  sole  principle  of  organization. 
Such  political  headship  as  exists,  is  acquired  by  one  whose 
fitness  asserts  itself  in  the  form  of  greater  age,  superior 
prowess,  stronger  will,  wider  knowledge,  quicker  insight,  or 
larger  wealth.  But  evidently  supremacy  which  thus  depends 
exclusively  on  personal  attributes  is  but  transitory.  It  is 
liable  to  be  superseded  by  the  supremacy  of  some  more  able 
man  from  time  to  time  arising;  and  if  not  superseded,  is 
ended  by  death.  We  have,  then,  to  inquire  how  permanent 
chieftainship  becomes  established.  Before  doing  this,  how- 
ever, we  must  consider  more  fully  the  two  kinds  of  superiority 
which  especially  conduce  to  chieftainship,  and  their  modes  of 
operation. 


336 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


§ 473.  As  bodily  vigour  is  a cause  of  predominance  within 
the  tribe  on  occasions  daily  occurring,  still  more  on  occasions 
of  war  is  it,  when  joined  with  courage,  a cause  of  predomi- 
nance. War,  therefore,  tends  to  make  more  pronounced  any 
authority  of  this  kind  which  is  incipient.  Whatever  reluctance 
other  members  of  the  tribe  have  to  recognize  the  leadership 
of  any  one  member,  is  likely  to  be  over-ridden  by  their  desire 
for  safety  when  recognition  of  his  leadership  furthers  that 
safety. 

This  rise  of  the  strongest  and  most  courageous  warrior  to 
power  is  at  first  spontaneous,  and  afterwards  by  agreement 
more  or  less  definite:  sometimes  joined  with  a process  of 
testing.  Where,  as  'in  Australia,  each  “ is  esteemed  by  the 
rest  only  according  to  his  dexterity  in  throwing  or  evading  a 
spear/’  it  is  inferable  that  such  superior  capacity  for  war  as 
is  displayed,  generates  of  itself  such  temporary  chieftainship 
as  exists.  Where,  as  among  the  Comanches,  any  one  who 
distinguishes  himself  by  taking  many  “ horses  or  scalps,  may 
aspire  to  the  honours  of  chieftaincy,  and  is  gradually  inducted 
by  a tacit  popular  consent,”  this  natural  genesis  is  clearly 
shown.  Very  commonly,  however,  there  is  deliberate  choice ; 
as  by  the  Flatheads,  among  whom,  “ except  by  the  war-chiefs 
no  real  authority  is  exercised.”  Skill,  strength,  courage,  and 
endurance  are  in  some  cases  deliberately  tested.  The  King 
of  Tonga  has  to  undergo  a trial : three  spears  are  thrown  at 
him,  which  he  must  ward  off.  “ The  ability  to  climb  up  a 
large  pole,  well-greased,  is  a necessary  qualification  of  a fight- 
ing chief  among  the  Sea  Dyaks;”  and  St.  John  says  that  in 
some  cases,  “ it  was  a custom  in  order  to  settle  who  should  be 
chief,  for  the  rivals  to  go  out  in  search  of  a head : the  first  in 
finding  one  being  victor.” 

Moreover,  the  need  for  an  efficient  leader  tends  ever  to 
re-establish  chieftainship  where  it  has  become  only  nominal 
or  feeble.  Edward  says  of  the  Caribs  that  “ in  war,  experi- 
ence had  taught  them  that  subordination  was  as  requisite  as 
courage ; they  therefore  elected  their  captains  in  their  general 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


337 


assemblies  with  great  solemnity and  “ put  their  pretensions 
to  the  proof  with  circumstances  of  outrageous  barbarity” 
Similarly,  “ although  the  Abipones  neither  fear  their  cacique 
as  a judge,  nor  honour  him  as  a master,  yet  his  fellow-soldiers 
follow  him  as  a leader  and  governor  of  the  war,  whenever 
the  enemy  is  to  be  attacked  or  repelled.” 

These  and  like  facts,  of  which  there  are  abundance,  have 
three  kindred  implications.  One  is  that  continuity  of  war 
conduces  to  permanence  of  chieftainship.  A second  is  that, 
with  increase  of  his  influence  as  successful  military  head,  the 
chief  gains  influence  as  civil  head.  A third  is  that  there  is 
thus  initiated  a union,  maintained  through  subsequent  phases 
of  social  evolution,  between  military  supremacy  and  political 
supremacy.  Not  only  among  the  uncivilized  Hottentots, 
Malagasy,  and  others,  is  the  chief  or  king  head  of  the  army — 
not  only  among  such  semi-civilized  peoples  as  the  ancient 
Peruvians  and  Mexicans,  do  we  find  the  monarch  one  with 
the  commander-in-chief;  but  the  histories  of  extinct  and 
surviving  nations  all  over  the  world  exemplify  the  connexion. 
In  Egypt  “ in  the  early  ages,  the  offices  of  king  and  general 
were  inseparable.”  Assyrian  sculptures  and  inscriptions 
represent  the  despotic  ruler  as  also  the  conquering  soldier ; as 
do  the  records  of  the  Hebrews.  Civil  and  military  headship 
were  united  among  the  Homeric  Greeks ; and  in  primitive 
Rome  “ the  general  was  ordinarily  the  king  himself.”  That 
throughout  European  history  it  has  been  so,  and  partially 
continues  so  even  now  in  the  more  militant  societies,  needs 
no  showing. 

How  command  of  a wider  kind  follows  military  command, 
we  cannot  readily  see  in  societies  which  have  no  records : we 
can  but  infer  that  along  with  increased  power  of  coercion 
which  the  successful  head-warrior  gains,  naturally  goes  the 
exercise  of  a stronger  rule  in  civil  affairs.  That  this  has 
been  so  among  peoples  who  have  known  histories,  there  is 
proof.  Of  the  primitive  Germans  Sohm  remarks  that  the 
Roman  invasions  had  one  result: — 


333 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


“ The  kingship  became  united  with  the  leadership  (become  permanent) 
of  the  army,  and,  as  a consequence,  raised  itself  to  a power  [institution] 
in  the  State.  The  military  subordination  under  the  king-leader  fur- 
thered political  subordination  under  the  "king Kingship 

after  the  invasions  is  a kingship  clothed  with  supreme  rights — a king- 
ship  in  our  sense.” 

In  like  manner  it  is  observed  by  Eanke  that  during  the  wars 
with  the  English  in  the  fifteenth  century — 

“ The  French  monarchy,  whilst  struggling  for  its  very  existence, 
acquired  at  the  same  time,  and  as  the  result  of  the  struggle,  a firmer 
organization.  The  expedients  adopted  to  carry  on  the  contest  grew,  as 
in  other  important  cases,  to  national  institutions.” 

And  modern  instances  of  the  relation  between  successful 
militancy  and  the  strengthening  of  political  control,  are  fur- 
nished by  the  career  of  Napoleon  and  the  recent  history  of 
the  German  Empire. 

Headship  of  the  society,  then,  commonly  beginning  with 
the  influence  gained  by  the  warrior  of  greatest  power,  bold- 
ness, and  capacity,  becomes  established  where  activity  in 
war  gives  opportunity  for  his  superiority  to  show  itself  and 
to  generate  subordination  ; and  thereafter  the  growth  of  civil 
governorship  continues  primarily  related  to  the  exercise  of 
militant  functions. 

§ 474.  Very  erroneous,  however,  would  be  the  idea  formed 
if  no  further  origin  for  political  headship  were  named.  There 
is  a kind  of  influence,  in  some  cases  operating  alone  and  in 
other  cases  cooperating  with  that  above  specified,  which  is  all- 
important.  I mean  the  influence  possessed  by  the  medicine- 
man. 

That  this  arises  as  early  as  the  other,  can  scarcely  be  said ; 
since,  until  the  ghost-theory  takes  shape,  there  is  no  origin 
for  it.  But  when  belief  in  the  spirits  of  the  dead  becomes 
current,  the  medicine-man,  professing  ability  to  control  them, 
and  inspiring  faith  in  his  pretensions,  is  regarded  with  a 
fear  which  prompts  obedience.  When  we  read  of  the 
Thlinkeets  that  the  “ supreme  feat  of  a conjuror’s  power  is  to 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


339 


throw  one  of  his  liege  spirits  into  the  body  of  one  who 
refuses  to  believe  in  his  power,  upon  which  the  possessed  is 
taken  with  swooning  and  fits,”  we  may  imagine  the  dread  he 
excites,  and  the  sway  he  consequently  gains.  From  some  of 
the  lowest  races  upwards  we  find  illustrations.  Fitzroy  says 
of  the  “ doctor-wizard  among  the  Fuegians  ” that  he  is  the 
most  cunning  aiid  most  deceitful  of  his  tribe,  and  that  he  has 
great  influence  over  his  companions.  “ Though  the  Tas- 
manians were  free  from  the  despotism  of  rulers,  they  were 
swayed  by  the  counsels,  governed  by  the  arts,  or  terrified  by 
the  fears,  of  certain  wise  men  or  doctors.  These  could  not 
only  mitigate  suffering,  but  inflict  it.”  A chief  of  the  Haidalis 
“ seems  to  be  the  principal  sorcerer,  and  indeed  to  possess 
little  authority  save  from  his  connexion  with  the  preter- 
human powers.”  The  Dakota  medicine-men — 

“ Are  the  greatest  rascals  in  the  tribe,  and  possess  immense  influence 
over  the  minds  of  the  young,  who  are  brought  up  in  the  belief  of 

their  supernatural  powers The  war-chief,  who  leads  the 

party  to  war,  is  always  one  of  these  medicine -men,  and  is  believed  to 
have  the  power  to  guide  the  party  to  success,  or  save  it  from  defeat.” 

Among  more  advanced  peoples  in  Africa,  supposed  abilities  to 
control  invisible  beings  similarly  give  influence — strengthen- 
ing authority  otherwise  gained.  It  is  so  wit  h the  Amazulu  : 
a chief  “ practises  magic  on  another  chief  before  fighting 
with  him;”  and  his  followers  have  great  confidence  in  him 
if  he  has  much  repute  as  a magician.  Hence  the  sway 
acquired  by  Langalibalele,  who,  as  Bishop  Colenzo  says, 
“ knows  well  the  composition  of  that  intelezi  [used  for 
controlling  the  weather] ; and  he  knows  well,  too,  the  war- 
medicine,  i.e .,  its  component  parts,  being  himself  a doctor.” 
Still  better  is  seen  the  governmental  influence  thus  acquired 
in  the  case  of  the  king  of  Obbo,  who  in  time  of  drought  calls 
his  subjects  together  and  explains  to  them — 

“ how  much  he  regrets  that  their  conduct  has  compelled  him  to  afflict 
them  with  unfavourable  weather,  but  that  it  is  their  own  fault.  . . . 

He  must  have  goats  and  corn.  4 No  goats,  no  rain ; that’s  our  contract, 
my  friends,’  says  Katchiba.  . . . Should  his  people  complain  of  too 

6 


340 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


much  rain,  he  threatens  to  pour  storms  and  lightning  upon  them  for 
ever,  unless  they  bring  him  so  many  hundred  baskets  of  corn,  &c., 
&c.  . . . His  subjects  have  the  most  thorough  confidence  in  his  power.” 

And  the  king  is  similarly  supposed  to  exercise  control  over  the 
weather  among  the  people  of  Loango. 

A like  connexion  is  traceable  in  the  records  of  various 
extinct  peoples  in  both  hemispheres.  Of  Huitzilopochtli,  the 
founder  of  the  Mexican  power,  we  read  that  “ a great  wizard 
lie  had  been,  and  a sorcerer and  every  Mexican  king  on 
ascending  the  throne  had  to  swear  “ to  make  the  sun  go  his 
course,  to  make  the  clouds  pour  down  rain,  to  make  the  rivers 
run,  and  all  fruits  to  ripen.”  Reproaching  his  subjects  for 
want  of  obedience,  a Chibcha  ruler  told  them  they  knew 
“that  it  was  in  his  power  to  afflict  them  with  pestilence, 
small-pox,  rheumatism,  and  fever,  and  to  make  to  grow  as 
much  grass,  vegetables,  and  plants  as  they  wanted.”  Ancient 
Egyptian  records  yield  indications  of  a similar  early  belief. 
Thothmes  III.,  after  being  deified,  “ was  considered  as  the 
luck-bringing  god  of  the  country,  and  a preserver  against  the 
evil  influence  of  wicked  spirits  and  magicians/’  And  it  was 
thus  with  the  Jews  : — 

“ Rabbinical  writings  are  never  weary  of  enlarging  upon  the  magical 
power  and  knowledge  of  Solomon.  He  was  represented  as  not  only 
king  of  the  whole  earth,  but  also  as  reigning  over  devils  and  evil  spirits, 
and  having  the  power  of  expelling  them  from  the  bodies  of  men  and 
animals  and  also  of  delivering  people  to  them.” 

The  traditions  of  European  peoples  furnish  kindred  evidence. 
As  before  shown  (§  198)  stories  in  the  Heims-kringla  saga 
imply  that  the  Scandinavian  ruler,  Odin,  was  a medicine- 
man ; as  were  also  Niort  and  Frey,  his  successors.  And  after 
recalling  the  supernatural  weajpons  and  supernatural  achieve- 
ments of  early  heroic  kings,  we  can  scarcely  doubt  that  with 
them  were  in  some  cases  associated  those  ascribed  magical 
characters  whence  have  descended  the  supposed  powers  of 
kings  to  cure  diseases  by  touching.  We  shall  the  less  doubt 
this  on  finding  that  like  powers  were  attributed  to  subordinate 
rulers  of  early  origin.  There  existed  certain  Breton  nobles 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC.  341 

whose  spittle  and  touch  were  said  to  have  curative  pro- 
perties. 

Thus  one  important  factor  in  the  genesis  of  political  head- 
ship, originates  with  the  ghost- theory,  and  the  concomitant 
rise  of  a belief  that  some  men,  having  acquired  power  over 
ghosts,  can  obtain  their  aid.  Generally  the  chief  and  the 
medicine-man  are  separate  persons;  and  there  then  exists 
between  them  some  conflict : they  have  competing  authorities. 
But  where  the  ruler  joins  with  his  power  naturally  gained, 
this  ascribed  supernatural  power,  his  authority  is  necessarily 
much  increased.  Becalcitrant  members  of  his  tribe  who 
might  dare  to  resist  him  if  bodily  prowess  alone  could  decide 
the  struggle,  do  not  dare  if  they  think  he  can  send  one  of  his 
posse  comitatus  of  ghosts  to  torment  them.  That  rulers  desire 
to  unite  the  two  characters,  we  have,  in  one  case,  distinct 
proof.  Canon  Callaway  tells  us  that  among  the  Amazulu,  a 
chief  will  endeavour  to  discover  a medicine-man’s  secrets  and 
afterwards  kill  him. 

§ 475.  Still  there  recurs  the  question — How  does  per- 
manent political  headship  arise  ? Such  political  headship  as 
results  from  bodily  power,  or  courage,  or  sagacity,  even  when 
strengthened  by  supposed  supernatural  aid,  ends  with  the 
life  of  any  savage  who  gains  it.  The  principle  of  efficiency, 
physical  or  mental,  while  it  tends  to  produce  a temporary 
differentiation  into  ruler  and  ruled,  does  not  suffice  to  produce 
a permanent  differentiation.  There  has  to  cooperate  another 
principle,  to  which  we  now  pass. 

Already  we  have  seen  that  even  in  the  rudest  groups,  age 
gives  some  predominance.  Among  both  Fuegians  and 
Australians,  not  only  old  men,  but  also  old  women,  exercise 
authority.  And  that  this  respect  for  age,  apart  from  other 
distinction,  is  an  important  factor  in  establishing  political 
subordination,  is  implied  by  the  curious  fact  that,  in  sundry 
advanced  societies  characterized  by  extreme  governmental 
coercion,  the  respect  due  to  age  takes  precedence  of  all  other 


342 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


respect.  Sliarpe  remarks  of  ancient  Egypt  that  “ here  as  in 
Persia  and  J udaea  the  king’s  mother  often  held  rank  above  his 
wife.”  In  China,  notwithstanding  the  inferior  position  of 
women  socially  and  domestically,  there  exists  this  supremacy 
of  the  female  parent,  second  only  to  that  of  the  male  parent ; 
and  the  like  holds  in  Japan.  As  supporting  the  inference 
that  subjection  to  parents  prepares  the  way  for  subjection  to 
rulers,  I may  add  a converse  fact.  Of  the  Coroados,  whose 
groups  are  so  incoherent,  we  read  that — 

“ The  paje,  however,  has  as  little  influence  over  the  will  of  the  multi- 
tude as  any  other,  for  they  live  without  any  bond  of  social  union, 
neither  under  a republican  nor  a patriarchial  form  of  government. 
Even  family  ties  are  very  loose  among  them  ....  there  is  no 
regular  precedency  between  the  old  and  the  young,  for  age  appears  to 
enjoy  no  respect  among  them.” 

And,  as  re-inforcing  this  converse  fact,  I may  call  attention 
to  § 317,  where  it  was  shown  that  the  Mantras,  the  Caribs, 
the  Mapuches,  the  Brazilian  Indians,  the  Gallinomeros,  the 
Shoshones,  the  Navajos,  the  Californians,  the  Comanches, 
who  submit  very  little  or  not  at  all  to  chiefly  rule,  display  a 
filial  submission  which  is  mostly  small  and  ceases  early. 

But  now  under  what  circumstances  does  respect  for  age 
take  that  pronounced  form  seen  in  societies  distinguished  by 
great  political  subordination  ? It  was  shown  in  § 319  that 
when  men,  passing  from  the  hunting  stage  into  the  pastoral 
stage,  began  to  wander  in  search  of  food  for  their  domesti- 
cated animals,  they  fell  into  conditions  favouring  the  forma- 
tion of  patriarchal  groups.  We  saw  that  in  the  primitive 
pastoral  horde,  the  man,  released  from  those  earlier  tribal 
influences  which  interfere  with  paternal  power,  and  prevent 
settled  relations  of  the  sexes,  was  so  placed  as  to  acquire 
headship  of  a coherent  cluster : the  father  became  by  right 
of  the  strong  hand,  leader,  owner,  master,  of  wife,  children, 
and  all  he  carried  with  him.  There  w^ere  enumerated  the 
influences  which  tended  to  make  the  eldest  male  a patriarch ; 
and  it  was  shown  that  not  only  the  Semites,  Aryans,  and 
Turanian  races  of  Asia  have  exemplified  this  relation  between 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


343 


pastoral  habits  and  the  patriarchal  organization,  but  that  it 
recurs  in  South  African  races. 

Be  the  causes  what  they  may,  however,  we  find  abundant 
proof  that  this  family-supremacy  of  the  eldest  male,  common 
among  pastoral  peoples  and  peoples  who  have  passed  through 
the  pastoral  stage  into  the  agricultural  stage,  develops  into 
political  supremacy.  Of  the  Santals  Hunter  says — 

“ The  village  government  is  purely  patriarchial.  Each  hamlet  has  an 
original  founder  (the  Manjhi-Hanan),  who  is  regarded  as  the  father  of 
the  community.  He  receives  divine  honours  in  the  sacred  grove,  and 
transmits  his  authority  to  his  descendants.55 

Of  the  compound  family  among  the  Khonds  we  read  in  Mac- 
pherson  that — 

“ There  it  [paternal  authority]  reigns  nearly  absolute.  It  is  a Khond’s 
maxim  that  a man’s  father  is  his  god,  disobedience  to  whom  is  the 
greatest  crime  ; and  all  the  members  of  a family  live  united  in  strict 
subordination  to  its  head  until  his  death.55 

And  the  growth  of  simple  groups  into  compound  and 
doubly-compound  groups,  acknowledging  the  authority  of  one 
who  unites  family  headship  with  political  headship,  has  been 
made  familiar  by  Sir  Henry  Maine  and  others  as  coiiimon  to 
early  Greeks,  Romans,  Teutons,  and  as  still  affecting  social 
organization  among  Hindoos  and  Sclavs. 

Here,  then,  we  have  making  its  appearance,  a factor  which 
conduces  to  permanence  of  political  headship.  As  was  pointed 
out  in  a foregoing  chapter,  while  succession  by  efficiency 
gives  plasticity  to  social  organization,  succession  by  inherit- 
ance gives  it  stability.  Ho  settled  arrangement  can  arise  in 
a primitive  community  so  long  as  the  function  of  each  unit 
is  determined  exclusively  by  his  fitness  ; since,  at  his  death, 
the  arrangement,  in  so  far  as  he  was  a part  of  it,  must  be 
recommenced.  Only  when  his  place  is  forthwith  filled  by 
one  whose  claim  is  admitted,  does  there  begin  a differentia- 
tion which  survives  through  successive  generations.  And 
evidently  in  the  earlier  stages  of  social  evolution,  while  the 
coherence  is  small  and  the  want  of  structure  great,  it  is  requi- 
site that  the  principle  of  inheritance  should,  especially  in  re- 


344 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


spect  of  the  political  headship,  predominate  over  the  principle 
of  efficiency.  Contemplation  of  the  facts  will  make  this  clear. 

§476.  Two  primary  forms  of  hereditary  succession  have  to 
be  considered.  The  system  of  kinship  through  females,  com- 
mon among  rude  peoples,  results  in  descent  of  property  and 
power  to  brothers  or  to  the  children  of  sisters ; while  the 
system  of  kinship  through  males,  general  among  advanced 
peoples,  results  in  descent  of  property  and  power  to  sons  oi 
daughters.  We  have  first  to  note  that  succession  through 
females  is  less  conducive  to  stable  political  headships  than  is 
succession  through  males. 

From  the  fact  named  when  treating  of  the  domestic  rela- 
tions, that  the  system  of  kinship  through  females  arises  where 
unions  of  the  sexes  are  temporary  or  unsettled,  it  is  to  be 
inferred  that  this  system  characterizes  societies  which  are 
unadvanced  in  all  ways,  political  included.  We  saw  in  § 294, 
that  irregular  connexions  involve  paucity  and  feebleness  of 
known  relationships,  and  a type  of  family  the  successive 
links  of  which  are  not  strengthened  by  so  many  collateral 
links.  A common  consequence  is  that  along  with  descent 
through  females  there  either  goes  no  chieftainship,  or  such 
chieftainship  as  exists  is  established  by  merit,  or,  if  here- 
ditary, is  usually  unstable.  The  Australians  and  Tasmanians 
supply  typical  instances.  Among  the  Haidahs  and  other 
savage  peoples  of  Columbia,  “ rank  is  nominally  hereditary, 
for  the  most  part  by  the  female  line  and  actual  chieftain- 
ship “ depends  to  a great  extent  on  wealth  and  ability  in 
war.”  Of  other  North  American  tribes  the  Chippewas, 
Comanches,  and  Snakes,  show  us  the  system  of  kinship 
through  females  joined  with  either  absence  of  established 
headship  or  very  feeble  development  of  it.  Passing  to  South 
America,  the  Arawaks  and  the  Waraus  may  be  instanced  as 
having  female  descent  and  almost  nominal,  though  hereditary, 
chiefs ; and  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  Caribs. 

A group  of  facts  having  much  significance  may  now  be 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


345 


named.  In  many  societies  where  descent  of  property  and 
frank  in  the  female  line  is  the  rule,  an  exception  is  made  in 
the  case  of  the  political  head ; and  societies  exemplifying  this 
exception  are  societies  in  which  political  headship  is  relatively 
stable.  Though  in  Fiji  there  is  kinship  through  females,  yet, 
according  to  Seemann,  the  ruler,  chosen  from  the  members  of 
the  royal  family,  is  “ generally  the  son  ” of  the  late  ruler. 
In  Tahiti,  where  the  two  highest  ranks  follow  the  primitive 
system  of  descent,  male  succession  to  rulership  is  so  pro- 
nounced that,  on  the  birth  of  an  eldest  son  the  father  becomes 
simply  a regent  on  his  behalf.  And  among  the  Malagasy, 
along  with  a prevailing  kinship  through  females,  the  sovereign 
either  nominates  his  successor,  or,  failing  this,  the  nobles  ap- 
point, and  “ unless  positive  disqualification  exists,  the  eldest 
son  is  usually  chosen.”  Africa  furnishes  evidence  of 

varied  kinds.  Though  the  Congo  people,  the  Coast  Negroes, 
and  the  Inland  Negroes  have  formed  communities  of  some  size 
and  complexity,  notwithstanding  that  kinship  through  females 
obtains  in  the  succession  to  the  throne,  yet  we  read  of  the 
first  that  allegiance  is  “ vague  and  uncertain of  the  second 
that,  save  where  free  in  form,  the  government  is  “ an  insecure 
and  short-lived  monarchic  despotism and  of  the  third  that, 
where  the  government  is  not  of  mixed  type,  it  is  “ a rigid  but 
insecure  despotism.”  Meanwhile,  in  the  two  most  advanced 
and  powerful  states,  stability  of  political  headship  goes  along 
with  departure,  incipient  or  entire,  from  succession  through 
females.  In  Ashantee,  claims  to  the  crown  stand  in  this 
order — “the  brother,  the  sister’s  son,  the  son and  in  Dahomey 
there  is  male  primogeniture.  Further  instances  of 

this  transition  are  yielded  by  extinct  American  civilizations. 
The  Aztec  conquerors  of  Mexico  brought  with  them  the 
system  of  kinship  through  females,  and  consequent  law  of 
succession ; but  this  law  of  succession  was  partially,  or  com- 
pletely, changed  to  succession  through  males.  In  Tezcuco 
and  Tlacopan  (divisions  of  Mexico)  the  eldest  son  inherited 
the  kingship ; and  in  Mexico  the  choice  of  a king  was  limited 


346 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


to  tlie  sons  and  brothers  of  the  preceding  king, 
ancient  Peru,  Gomara  says — “ nephews  inherit,  and  not  son 
except  in  the  case  of  the  Yncas:”  this  exception  in  th 
case  of  the  Yncas,  having  the  strange  peculiarity  that 
“ the  first-born  of  this  brother  and  sister  [i.e.,  the  Ynca  and 
his  principal  wife]  was  the  legitimate  heir  to  the  king- 
dom”: an  arrangement  which  made  the  line  of  descent 
unusually  narrow  and  definite.  And  here  we  are 

brought  back  to  Africa  by  the  parallelism  between  the  case 
of  Peru  and  that  of  Egypt.  “ In  Egypt  it  was  maternal 
descent  that  gave  the  right  to  property  and  to  the  throne. 
The  same  prevailed  in  Ethiopia.  If  the  monarch  married 
out  of  the  royal  family  the  children  did  not  enjoy  a legiti- 
mate right  to  the  crown.”  When  we  add  the  statement  that 
the  monarch  was  “ supposed  to  be  descended  from  the  gods, 
in  the  male  and  female  line and  when  we  join  with  this 
the  further  statement  that  there  were  royal  marriages  between 
brother  and  sister ; we  see  that  like  causes  worked  like  effects 
in  Egypt  and  in  Peru.  For  in  Peru  the  Ynca  was  of  sup- 
posed divine  descent ; inherited  his  divinity  on  both  sides ; 
and  married  his  sister  to  keep  the  divine  blood  unmixed. 
And  in  Peru,  as  in  Egypt,  there  resulted  royal  succession  in 
the  male  line,  where,  otherwise,  succession  through  females 
prevailed.  Ancient  Ceylon,  where  “ the  form  of  government 
was  at  all  times  an  unmitigated  despotism,”  appears  to  have 
furnished  a parallel  case ; for  Sir  J.  E.  Tennant  tells  us  that 
“ the  Singhelese  kings  frequently  married  their  sisters.” 

With  this  process  of  transition  from  the  one  law  of  descent 
to  the  other,  implied  by  these  last  facts,  may  be  joined  some 
processes  which  preceding  facts  imply.  In  New  Caledonia  a 
“chief  nominates  his  successor,  if  possible,  in  a son  or 
brother the  one  choice  implying  descent  in  the  male  line 
and  the  other  being  consistent  with  descent  in  either  male  or 
female  line.  And  in  Madagascar,  where  the  system  of  female 
kinship  prevailed,  “ the  sovereign  nominated  his  successor — 
naturally  choosing  a son.”  Further  it  is  manifest  that  where, 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


347 


Ese  cases,  when  no  nomination  has  been  made  the 
loose  among  members  of  the  royal  family,  and  are 
ed  in  their  choice  by  eligibility,  there  may  be,  and 
naturally  is,  a departure  from  descent  in  the  female  line ; 
and  this  system  of  descent  once  broken  through  is  likely  for 
several  reasons  to  be  abolished.  We  are  also  intro- 

duced to  another  transitional  process.  For  some  of  these  cases 
are  among  the  many  in  which  succession  to  rulership  is  fixed 
in  respect  of  the  family,  but  not  fixed  in  respect  of  the 
member  of  the  family — a stage  implying  a partial  but  incom- 
plete stability  of  the  political  headship.  Several  instances 
occur  in  Africa.  “ The  crown  of  Abyssinia  is  hereditary  in 
one  family,  but  elective  in  the  person,1 " says  Bruce.  “ Among 
the  Timmanees  and  Bulloms,  the  crown  remains  in  the  same 
family,  but  the  chiefs  or  head  men  of  the  country,  upon  whom 
the  election  of  a king  depends,  are  at  liberty  to  nominate  a 
very  distant  branch  of  that  family/'  And  a Kaffir  “ law 
requires  the  successor  to  the  king  should  be  chosen  from 
amongst  some  of  the  youngest  princes."  In  Java  and  Samoa, 
too,  while  succession  to  rulership  is  limited  to  the  family,  it 
is  but  partially  settled  with  respect  to  the  individual.  And 
the  like  held  in  Spain  (Aragon)  before  the  12th  century; 
where  “ a small  number  of  powerful  barons  elected  their 
sovereign  on  every  vacancy,  though,  as  usual  in  other 
countries,  out  of  one  family." 

. That  stability  of  political  headship  is  secured  by  establish- 
ment of  descent  in  the  male  line,  is, 'of  course,  not  alleged. 
The  allegation  simply  is  that  succession  after  this  mode  con- 
duces better  than  any  other  to  its  stability.  Of  probable 
reasons  for  this,  one  is  that  in  the  patriarchal  group,  as 
developed  among  those  pastoral  races  from  which  the  leading 
civilized  peoples  have  descended,  the  sentiment  of  subordina- 
tion to  the  eldest  male,  fostered  by  circumstances  in  the 
family  and  in  the  gens,  becomes  instrumental  to  a wider 
subordination  in  the  larger  groups  eventually  formed.  Another 
probable  reason  is,  that  with  descent  in  the  male  line  there  is 


348 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


more  frequently  a union  of  efficiency  with  supremacy.  The^ 
son  of  a great  warrior,  or  man  otherwise  capable  as  a ruler,  is  1 
more  likely  to  possess  kindred  traits  than  is  the  son  of  his 
sister ; and  if  so,  it  will  happen  that  in  those  earliest  stages 
when  personal  superiority  is  requisite  as  well  as  legitimacy 
of  claim,  succession  in  the  male  line  will  conduce  to  main- 
tenance of  power  by  making  usurpation  more  difficult. 

There  is,  however,  a more  potent  influence  which  aids  in 
giving  permanence  to  political  headship,  and  which  operates 
more  in  conjunction  with  descent  through  males  than  in  con- 
junction with  descent  through  females — an  influence  probably 
of  greater  importance  than  any  other. 

§ 477.  When  showing,  in  § 475,  how  respect  for  age  gene- 
rates patriarchal  authority  where  descent  through  males  has 
arisen,  I gave  cases  which  incidentally  showed  a further  result ; 
namely,  that  the  dead  patriarch,  worshipped  by  his  descend- 
ants, becomes  a family  deity.  In  sundry  chapters  of  Vol.  I. 
were  set  forth  at  length  the  proofs,  past  and  present,  furnished 
by  many  places  and  peoples,  of  this  genesis  of  gods  from 
ghosts.  Here  there  remains  to  be  pointed  out  the  strengthen- 
ing of  political  headship  which  inevitably  results. 

Descent  from  a ruler  who  impressed  men  by  his  superiority, 
and  whose  ghost,  specially  feared,  is  propitiated  in  so  unusual 
a degree  as  to  distinguish  it  from  ancestral  ghosts  at  large, 
exalts  and  supports  the  living  ruler  in  two  ways.  He  is 
assumed  to  inherit  from  his  great  progenitor  more  or  less  of 
the  power,  apt  to  be  thought  supernatural,  which  characterized 
him ; and,  making  sacrifices  to  this  great  progenitor,  he  is 
supposed  to  maintain  such  relations  with  him  as  insure  divine 
aid.  Passages  in  Canon  Callaway’s  account  of  the  Amazulu, 
show  the  influence  of  this  belief.  It  is  said,  “ the  Itongo 
[ancestral  ghost]  dwells  with  the  great  man,  and  speaks  with 
him  ; ” and  then  it  is  also  said  (referring  to  a medicine-man), 
“ the  chiefs  of  the  house  of  Uzulu  used  not  to  allow  a mere 
inferior  to  be  even  said  to  have  power  over  the  heaven;  for 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


349 


it  was  said  that  the  heaven  belonged  only  to  the  chief  of  that 
place.”  These  facts  yield  a definite  interpretation  of  others, 
like  the  following,  which  show  that  the  authority  of  the  ter- 
restrial ruler  is  increased  by  his  alleged  relation  to  the  celestial 
ruler ; be  the  celestial  ruler  the  ghost  of  the  remotest  known 
ancestor  who  founded  the  society,  or  of  a conquering  invader, 
or  of  a superior  stranger. 

Of  the  chiefs  among  the  Kukis,  who  are  descendants  of 
Hindoo  adventurers,  we  read : — 

“All  these  Kajahs  are  supposed  to  have  sprung  from  the  same  stock, 
which  it  is  believed  originally  had  connection  with  the  gods  them- 
selves; their  persons  are  therefore  looked  upon  with  the  greatest 
respect  and  almost  superstitious  veneration,  and  their  commands  are  in 
every  case  law.” 

Of  the  Tahitians  Ellis  says  : — 

“ The  god  and  the  king  were  generally  supposed  to  share  the  authority 
over  the  mass  of  mankind  between  them.  The  latter  sometimes  imper- 
sonated the  former.  . . . The  kings,  in  some  of  the  islands,  were  sup- 

posed to  have  descended  from  the  gods.  Their  persons  were  always  sacred.” 

According  to  Mariner,  “ Toritonga  and  Veachi  (hereditary 
divine  chiefs  in  Tonga,)  are  both  acknowledged  descendants 
of  chief  gods  who  formerly  visited  the  islands  of  Tonga.” 
And,  in  ancient  Peru  “ the  Ynca  gave  them  [his  vassals]  to 
understand  that  all  he  did  with  regard  to  them  was  by  an 
order  and  revelation  of  his  father,  the  Sun.” 

This  re-inforcement  of  natural  pow7er  by  supernatural 
power,  becomes  extreme  where  the  ruler  is  at  once  a descend- 
ant of  the  gods  and  himself  a god  : a union  which  is  familiar 
among  peoples  who  do  not  distinguish  the  divine  from  the 
human  as  we  do.  It  was  thus  in  the  case  just  instanced — 
that  of  the  Peruvians.  It  was  thus  with  the  ancient  Egyp- 
tians : the  monarch  “ was  the  representative  of  the  Divinity 
on  earth,  and  of  the  same  substance.”  Not  only  did  he  in 
many  cases  become  a god  after  death,  but  he  was  worshipped 
as  a god  during  life ; as  witness  this  prayer  to  Eameses  II. 

“ When  they  had  come  before  the  king  . . . they  fell  down  to  the 

ground,  and  with  their  hands  they  prayed  to  the  king.  They  praised 
this  divine  benefactor  . . „ speaking  thus : — ‘We  are  come  before 


350 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


tliee,  the  lord  of  heaven,  lord  of  the  earth,  sun,  life  of  the  whole  world, 
lord  of  time  . . . lord  of  prosperity,  creator  of  the  harvest,  fashioner 

and  former  of  mortals,  dispenser  of  breath  to  all  men ; animater  of  the 
whole  company  of  the  gods  . . . thou  former  of  the  great,  creator 

of  the  small  . . . thon  our  lord,  onr  snn,  by  whose  words  out  of  his 

mouth  Turn  lives  . . . grant  us  life  out  of  thy  hands  . . . and 

breath  for  our  nostrils.’  ” 

This  prayer  introduces  us  to  a remarkable  parallel.  Eameses, 
whose  powers,  demonstrated  by  his  conquests,  were  regarded 
as  so  transcendant,  is  here  described  as  ruling  not  only  the 
lower  world  but  also  the  upper  world ; and  a like  royal  power 
is  alleged  in  two  existing  societies  where  absolutism  is  simi- 
larly unmitigated — China  and  J apan.  As  shown  when  treat- 
ing of  Ceremonial  Institutions  (§  347)  both  the  Emperor  of 
China  and  the  Japanese  Mikado,  have  such  supremacy  in 
heaven  that  they  promote  its  inhabitants  from  rank  to  rank 
at  will. 

That  this  strengthening  of  political  headship,  if  not  by 
ascribed  godhood  then  by  ascribed  descent  from  a god  (either 
the  apotheosized  ancestor  of  the  tribe  or  one  of  the  elder 
deities),  was  exemplified  among  the  early  Greeks,  needs  not 
be  shown.  It  was  exemplified,  too,  among  the  Northern 
Aryans.  “ According  to  the  old  heathen  faith,  the  pedigree 
of  the  Saxon,  Anglian,  Danish,  Norwegian,  and  Swedish  kings 
— probably  also  those  of  the  German  and  Scandinavian  kings 
generally — was  traced  to  Odin,  or  to  some  of  his  immediate 
companions  or  heroic  sons.” 

It  is  further  to  be  noted  that  a god-descended  ruler  who  is 
also  chief  priest  of  the  gods  (as  he  habitually  is),  obtains  a 
more  effective  supernatural  aid  than  does  the  ruler  to  whom 
magical  powers  alone  are  ascribed.  For  in  the  first  place  the 
invisible  agents  invoked  by  the  magician  are  not  conceived  to 
be  those  of  highest  rank ; whereas  the  divinely-descended 
ruler  is  supposed  to  get  the  help  of  a supreme  invisible  agent. 
And  in  the  second  place,  the  one  form  of  influence  over  these 
dreaded  superhuman  beings,  tends  much  less  than  the  other 
to  become  a permanent  attribute  of  the  ruler.  Though  among 


FOLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


351 


the  Chibchas,  we  find  a case  in  which  magical  power  was 
transferred  to  a successor — though  “ the  cazique  of  Sogamoso 
made  known  that  he  [Bochica]  had  left  him  heir  of  all  his 
sanctity,  and  that  he  had  the  same  power  of  making  rain 
when  he  liked,”  and  giving  health  or  sickness  (an  assertion 
believed  by  the  people) ; yet  this  is  an  exceptional  case. 
Speaking  generally,  the  chief  whose  relations  with  the  other 
world  are  those  of  a sorcerer  does  not  transmit  his  relations ; 
and  he  does  not  therefore  establish  a supernatural  dynasty,  as 
does  the  chief  of  divine  descent. 

§ 478.  And  now,  having  considered  the  several  factors 
which  cooperate  to  establish  political  headship,  let  us  consider 
the  process  of  cooperation  through  its  ascending  stages.  The 
truth  to  be  noted  is  that  the  successive  phenomena  which 
occur  in  the  simplest  groups,  habitually  recur  in  the  same 
order  in  compound  groups,  and  again  in  doubly-compound 
groups. 

As,  in  the  simple  group,  there  is  at  first  a state  in  which 
there  is  no  headship  ; so,  when  simple  groups  which  have 
acquired  political  heads  possessing  slight  authorities,  are  asso- 
ciated, there  is  at  first  no  headship  of  the  cluster.  The 
Chinooks  furnish  an  example.  Describing  them  Lewis  and 
Clarke  say : — “ As  these  families  gradually  expand  into 
bands,  or  tribes,  or  nations,  the  paternal  authority  is  repre- 
sented by  the  chief  of  each  association.  This  chieftain,  how- 
ever, is  not  hereditary.”  And  then  comes  the  further  fact, 
which  here  specially  concerns  us,  that  “ the  chiefs  of  the 
separate  villages  are  independent  of  each  other : ” there  is  no 
general  chieftain. 

As  headship  in  a simple  group,  at  first  temporary,  ceases 
when  the  war  which  initiates  it  ends ; so  in  a cluster  of  groups 
which  severally  have  recognized  heads,  a common  headship  at 
first  results  from  a war,  and  lasts  no  longer  than  the  war. 
Falkner  says — “ In  a general  war,  when  many  nations  enter 
into  an  alliance  against  a common  enemy,”  the  Patagonians 


352 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


“ cliose  an  Apo,  or  Commander-in-chief,  from  among  the 
oldest  or  most  celebrated  of  the  Caciques/'  The  Indians  of 
the  Upper  Orinoco  live  “ in  hordes  of  forty  or  fifty  under  a 
family  government,  and  they  recognize  a common  chief  only 
in  times  of  war/'  So  is  it  in  Borneo.  “ During  war  the 
chiefs  of  the  Sarebas  Dyaks  give  an  uncertain  allegiance  to  a 
head  chief,  or  commander-in-chief.''  It  has  been  the  same 
in  Europe.  Seeley  remarks  that  the  Sabines  “ seem  to  have 
had  a central  government  only  in  war  time."  Again,  “ Ger- 
many had  anciently  as  many  republics  as  it  had  tribes.  Except 
in  time  of  war,  there  was  no  chief  common  to  all,  or  even  to 
any  given  confederation." 

This  recalls  the  fact,  indicated  when  treating  of  Political 
Integration,  that  the  cohesion  within  compound  groups  is  less 
than  that  within  simple  groups,  and  that  the  cohesion  within 
the  doubly  compound  is  less  than  that  within  the  compound. 
What  was  there  said  of  cohesion  may  here  be  said  of  the  sub- 
ordination conducing  to  it ; for  we  find  that  when,  by  con- 
tinuous war,  a permanent  headship  of  a compound  group  has 
been  generated,  it  is  less  stable  than  the  headships  of  the  simple 
groups  are.  Often  it  lasts  only  for  the  life  of  the  man  who 
achieves  it ; as  among  the  Karens  and  the  Maganga,  instanced 
in  § 226,  and  as  among  the  Dyaks,  of  whom  Boyle  says — 

“ It  is  an  exceptional  case  if  a Dyak  chief  is  raised  to  an  acknow- 
ledged supremacy  over  the  other  chiefs.  If  he  is  so  raised  he  can  lay 
no  claim  to  his  power  except  that  of  personal  merit  and  the  consent  of 
his  former  equals ; and  his  death  is  instantly  followed  by  the  disruption 
of  his  dominions/5 

Even  where  there  has  arisen  a headship  of  the  compound  group 
which  lasts  beyond  the  life  of  its  founder,  it  remains  for  a long 
time  not  equal  in  stability  to  the  headships  of  the  component 
groups.  Pallas,  while  describing  the  Mongol  and  Kalmuck 
chiefs  as  having  unlimited  power  over  their  dependants,  says 
that  the  khans  had  in  general  only  an  uncertain  and  weak 
authority  over  the  subordinate  chiefs.  Concerning  the  Arau- 
canians,  Thompson  says  “ the  ulmenes  are  the  lawful  judges 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


353 


of  their  vassals,  and  for  this  reason  their  authority  is  less  pre- 
carious than  that  of  the  higher  officers  ” — the  central  rulers. 
Of  the  Kaffirs  we  read : — “ They  are  all  vassals  of  the  king, 
chiefs,  as  well  as  those  under  them;  but  the  subjects  are 
generally  so  blindly  attached  to  their  chiefs,  that  they  will 
follow  them  against  the  king.”  Europe  has  furnished  kindred 
examples.  Of  the  Homeric  Greeks  Mr.  Gladstone  writes  : — • 
“ It  is  probable  that  the  subordination  of  the  sub-chief  to  his 
local  sovereign  was  a closer  tie  than  that  of  the  local  sovereign 
to  the  head  of  Greece.”  And  during  the  early  feudal  period 
in  the  West,  allegiance  to  the  minor  but  proximate  ruler  was 
stronger  than  that  to  the  major  but  remote  ruler. 

In  the  compound  group,  as  in  the  simple  group,  the  pro- 
gress towards  stable  headship  is  furthered  by  transition  from 
succession  by  choice  to  succession  by  inheritance.  During 
early  stages  of  the  independent  tribe,  chieftainship  when  not 
acquired  by  individual  superiority  tacitly  yielded  to,  is  ac- 
quired by  election.  In  North  America  it  is  so  with  the  Aleuts, 
the  Comanches,  and  many  more ; in  Polynesia  it  is  so  with 
the  Land  Dyaks  ; and,  before  the  Mahommedan  conquest,  it 
was  so  in  Java.  Among  the  hill-peoples  of  India  it  is  so  with 
the  Nagas  and  others.  In  sundry  regions  the  change  to  heredi- 
tary succession  is  shown  by  different  tribes  of  the  same  race. 
Of  the  Karens  we  read  that  “ in  many  districts  the  chieftain- 
ship is  considered  hereditary,  but  in  more  it  is  elective  ” 
Some  Chinook  villages  have  chiefs  who  inherit  their  powers, 
though  mostly  they  are  chosen.  Similarly,  the  com- 

pound group  is  at  first  ruled  by  an  elected  head.  Several 
examples  come  to  us  from  Africa.  Bastian  tells  us  that  “ in 
many  parts  of  the  Congo  region  the  king  is  chosen  by  the 
petty  princes.”  The  crown  of  Yariba  is  not  hereditary : 
“ the  chiefs  invariably  electing,  from  the  wisest  and  most 
sagacious  of  their  own  body.”  And  the  king  of  Ibu,  says 
Allen,  seems  to  be  “ elected  by  a council  of  sixty  elders,  or 
chiefs  of  large  villages.”  In  Asia  it  is  thus  with  the  Kukis. 

“ One,  among  all  the  Bajahs  of  each  class,  is  chosen  to  be  the  Prudham 


354 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


or  chief  Rajah  of  that  clan.  The  dignity  is  not  hereditary,  as  is  the 
case  with  the  minor  Rajahships,  but  is  enjoyed  by  each  Rajah  of  the 
clan  in  rotation.” 

So  lias  it  been  in  Europe.  Though  by  the  early  Greeks  here- 
ditary right  was  in  a considerable  measure  recognized,  yet  the 
case  of  Telemachus  implies  “ that  a practice,  either  approach- 
ing to  election,  or  in  some  way  involving  a voluntary  action 
on  the  part  of  the  subjects,  or  of  a portion  of  them,  had  to  be 
gone  through.”  The  like  is  true  of  ancient  Rome.  That  its 
monarchy  was  elective  “ is  proved  by  the  existence  in  later 
times  of  an  office  of  interrex , which  implies  that  the  kingly 
power  did  not  devolve  naturally  upon  a hereditary  successor.” 
Later  on  it  was  thus  with  Western  peoples.  Up  to  the  begin- 
ning of  the  tenth  century  “ the  formality  of  election  sub- 
sisted . . . in  every  European  kingdom;  and  the  imper- 

fect right  of  birth  required  a ratification  by  public  assent  ” 
And  it  was  once  thus  with  ourselves.  Among  the  early 
English  the  Bretwaldsliip,  or  supreme  headship  over  the 
minor  kingdoms,  was  at  first  elective ; and  the  form  of  elec- 
tion continued  long  traceable  in  our  history.  Moreover,  it  is 
observable  that  the  change  to  hereditary  succession  is  by 
assent,  as  in  France.  “ The  first  six  kings  of  this  dynasty 
[the  Capetian]  procured  the  co-optation  of  their  sons,  by 
having  them  crowned  during  their  own  lives.  And  this  was 
not  done  without  the  consent  of  the  chief  vassals.” 

The  stability  of  the  compound  headship,  made  greater  by 
efficient  leadership  in  war  and  by  establishment  of  hereditary 
succession,  is  further  increased  when  there  cooperates  the 
additional  factor — supposed  supernatural  origin  or  super- 
natural sanction.  Everywhere,  up  from  a New  Zealand 
king,  who  is  strictly  tapu , or  sacred,  we  may  trace  this  in- 
fluence ; and  occasionally,  where  divine  descent  or  magical 
powers  are  not  claimed,  there  is  a claim  to  origin  that  is 
extraordinary.  Asia  yields  an  example  in  the  Fodli  dynasty, 
which  reigned  150  years  in  South  Arabia — a six-fingered 
dynasty,  regarded  with  awe  by  the  people  because  of  its  con- 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


355 


tinuously-inlierited  malformation.  Europe  of  the  Merovin- 
gian period  yields  an  example.  In  pagan  times  the  king’s 
race  had  an  alleged  divine  origin;  but  in  Christian  times, 
says  Waitz,  when  they  could  no  longer  mount  back  to  the 
gods,  a more  than  natural  origin  was  alleged : “ a sea-monster 
ravished  the  wife  of  Chlogio  as  she  sat  by  the  sea-shore, 
and  from  this  embrace  Merovech  sprang.”  Later  days  show 
us  the  gradual  acquisition  of  a sacred  or  semi-supernatural 
character,  where  it  did  not  originally  exist.  Divine  assent  to 
their  supremacy  was  asserted  by  the  Carolingian  kings. 
During  the  later  feudal  age,  rare  exceptions  apart,  kings 
“ were  not  far  removed  from  believing  themselves  near  rela- 
tives of  the  masters  of  heaven.  Kings  and  gods  were  col- 
leagues.” In  the  17th  century  this  belief  was  endorsed  by 
divines.  “ Kings,”  says  Bossuet,  “ are  gods,  and  share  in  a 
manner  the  divine  independence.” 

So  that  the  headship  of  a compound  group,  arising  tempo- 
rarily during  war,  then  becoming,  with  frequent  cooperation 
of  the  groups,  settled  for  life  by  election,  passing  presently 
into  the  hereditary  form,  and  gaining  permanence  as  fast  as 
the  law  of  succession  grows  wTell-defined  and  undisputed, 
acquires  its  greatest  stability  only  when  the  king  is  regarded 
as  a deputy  god,  or  when,  if  he  is  not  supposed  to  inherit  a 
divine  nature,  he  is  supposed  to  have  a divine  commission. 


§ 479.  Ascribed  divine  nature,  or  divine  descent,  or  divine 
commission,  naturally  gives  to  the  political  head  unlimited 
sway.  In  theory,  and  often  to  a large  extent  in  practice,  he 
is  owner  of  his  subjects  and  of  the  territory  they  occupy. 

Where  militancy  is  pronounced,  and  the  claims  of  a con- 
queror unqualified,  it  is  indeed  to  a considerable  degree  thus 
with  those  uncivilized  peoples  who  do  not  ascribe  super- 
natural characters  to  their  rulers.  Among  the  Zulu  Kaffirs 
the  chief  “ exercises  supreme  power  over  the  lives  of  his 
people the  Bheel  chiefs  “ have  a power  over  the  lives  and 
property  of  their  own  subjects and  in  Fiji  the  subject  is 


356 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


property.  But  it  is  still  more  thus  where  the  ruler  is  con- 
sidered more  than  human.  Astley  tells  us  that  in  Loango 
the  king  is  “ called  samba  and  pongo , that  is,  god and, 
according  to  Proyart,  the  Loango  people  “ say  their  lives 
and  goods  belong  to  the  king”  In  Wasoro  (East  Africa) 
“ the  king  has  unlimited  power  of  life  and  death  ...  in 
some  tribes  ...  he  is  almost  worshipped.”  In  Msam- 
bara  the  people  say  “ we  are  all  slaves  of  the  Zumbe  (king), 
who  is  our  Mulungu”  [god].  “ By  the  state  law  of  Dahomey, 
as  at  Benin,  all  men  are  slaves  to  the  king,  and  most  women 
are  his  wives and  in  Dahomey  the  king  is  called  “ the 
spirit.”  The  Malagasy  speak  of  their  king  as  “ our  god and 
he  is  lord  of  the  soil,  owner  of  all  property,  and  master  of 
his  subjects.  Their  time  and  services  are  at  his  command.” 
In  the  Sandwich  Islands  the  king,  personating  the  god,  utters 
oracular  responses ; and  his  power  “ extends  over  the  pro- 
perty, liberty,  and  lives  of  his  people.”  Various  Asiatic 
rulers,  whose  titles  ascribe  to  them  divine  descent  and  nature, 
stand  in  like  relations  to  their  peoples.  In  Siam  “the  king 
is  master  not  only  of  the  persons  but  really  of  the  property 
of  his  subjects : he  disposes  of  their  labour  and  directs  their 
movements  at  will.”  Of  the  Burmese  we  read — “ their  goods 
likewise,  and  even  their  persons  are  reputed  his  [the  king’s] 
property,  and  on  this  ground  it  is  that  he  selects  for  his  con- 
cubine any  female  that  may  chance  to  please  his  eye.”  In 
China  “ there  is  only  one  who  possesses  authority — the 
Emperor.  ...  A wang,  or  king,  has  no  hereditary  pos- 
sessions, and  lives  upon  the  salary  vouchsafed  by  the 
Emperor.  . . . He  is  the  only  possessor  of  the  landed 
property.”  And  the  like  is  alleged  of  the  divinely-descended 
Japanese  Mikado : “ his  majesty,  although  often  but  a child 
a few  years  old,  still  dispensed  ranks  and  dignities,  and  the 
ownership  of  the  soil  always  in  reality  resided  in  him.” 

Of  course,  where  the  political  head  has  unlimited  power — 
where,  as  victorious  invader,  his  subjects  lie  at  his  mercy,  or 
where,  as  divinely  descended,  his  will  may  not  be  questioned 


POLITICAL  HEADS— CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC, 


357 


without  impiety,  or  where  he  unites  the  characters  of  con- 
queror and  god,  he  naturally  absorbs  every  kind  of  authority. 
He  is  at  once  military  head,  legislative  head,  judicial  head, 
ecclesiastical  head.  The  fully  developed  king  is  the  supreme 
centre  of  every  social  structure  and  director  of  every  social 
function. 

§ 480.  In  a small  tribe  it  is  practicable  for  the  chief  per- 
sonally to  discharge  all  the  duties  of  his  office.  Besides 
leading  the  other  warriors  in  battle,  he  has  time  to  settle 
disputes,  he  can  sacrifice  to  the  ancestral  ghost,  he  can  keep 
the  village  in  order,  he  can  inflict  punishments,  he  can  regu- 
late trading  transactions ; for  those  governed  by  him  are  but 
few,  and  they  live  within  a narrow  space.  When  he  acquires 
the  headship  of  many  united  tribes,  both  the  increased 
amount  of  business  and  the  wider  area  covered  by  his  sub- 
jects, put  difficulties  in  the  way  of  exclusively  personal 
administration.  It  becomes  necessary  to  employ  others  for 
the  purposes  of  gaining  information,  conveying  commands, 
seeing  them  executed ; and  in  course  of  time  the  assistants 
thus  employed  grow  into  established  heads  of  departments 
with  deputed  authorities. 

While  this  development  of  governmental  structures  in- 
creases the  ruler’s  power,  by  enabling  him  to  deal  with  more 
numerous  affairs,  it,  in  another  way,  decreases  his  power ; for 
his  actions  are  more  and  more  modified  by  the  instrumentali- 
ties through  which  they  are  effected.  Those  who  watch  the 
■working  of  administrations,  no  matter  of  what  kind,  have 
forced  upon  them  the  truth  that  a head  regulative  agency  is 
at  once  helped  and  hampered  by  its  subordinate  agencies. 
In  a philanthropic  association,  a scientific  society,  or  a club, 
those  who  govern  find  that  the  organized  officialism  which 
they  have  created,  often  impedes,  and  not  unfrequently 
defeats,  their  aims.  Still  more  is  it  so  with  the  immensely 
larger  administrations  of  the  State.  Through  deputies  the 
ruler  receives  his  information;  by  them  his  orders  are 


358 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


executed ; and  as  fast  as  his  connexion  with  affairs  becomes 
indirect,  his  control  over  affairs  diminishes ; until,  in  extreme 
cases,  he  either  dwindles  into  a puppet  in  the  hands  of  his 
chief  deputy  or  has  his  place  usurped  by  him. 

Strange  as  it  seems,  the  two  causes  which  conspire  to  give 
permanence  to  political  headship,  also,  at  a later  stage,  con- 
spire to  reduce  the  political  head  to  an  automaton,  executing 
the  wills  of  the  agents  he  has  created.  In  the  first  place, 
when  hereditary  succession  is  finally  settled  in  some  line  of 
descent  rigorously  prescribed,  the  possession  of  supreme 
power  becomes  independent  of  capacity  for  exercising  it. 
The  heir  to  a vacant  throne  may  be,  and  often  is,  too  young 
for  discharging  its  duties ; or  he  may  be,  and  often  is,  too 
feeble  in  intellect,  too  deficient  in  energy,  or  too  much  occu- 
pied with  the  pleasures  which  his  position  offers  in  unlimited 
amounts.  The  result  is  that  in  the  one  case  the  regent,  and 
in  the  other  the  chief  minister,  becomes  the  actual  ruler.  In 
the  second  place,  that  sacredness  which  supposed  divine  origin 
gives,  makes  him  inaccessible  to  the  ruled.  All  intercourse 
between  him  and  them  must  be  through  the  agents  he 
surrounds  himself  with.  Hence  it  becomes  difficult  or  im- 
possible for  him  to  learn  more  than  they  choose  him  to  know ; 
and  there  follows  inability  to  adapt  his  commands  to  the  re- 
quirements, and  inability  to  discover  whether  his  commands 
have  been  fulfilled.  His  authority  is  consequently  used  to 
give  effect  to  the  purposes  of  his  agents. 

Even  in  so  relatively  simple  a society  as  that  of  Tonga, 
we  find  an  example.  There  is  an  hereditary  sacred  chief  who 
“ was  originally  the  sole  chief,  possessing  temporal  as  well  as 
spiritual  power,  and  regarded  as  of  divine  origin,”  but  who  is 
now  politically  powerless.  Abyssinia  shows  us  something 
analogous.  Holding  no  direct  communication  with  his  sub- 
jects, and  having  a sacredness  such  that  even  in  council  he 
sits  unseen,  the  monarch  is  a mere  dummy.  In  Gondar,  one 
of  the  divisions  of  Abyssinia,  the  king  must  belong  to  the 
royal  house  of  Solomon,  but  any  one  of  the  turbulent  chiefs 


POLITICAL  HEADS— CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


359 


who  has  obtained  ascendancy  by  force  of  arms,  becomes  a 
Eas — a prime  minister  or  real  monarch  ; though  he  requires 
“ a titular  emperor  to  perform  the  indispensable  ceremony  of 
nominating  a Eas,”  since  the  name,  at  least,  of  emperor  “ is 
deemed  essential  to  render  valid  the  title  of  Eas.”  The  case 
of  Thibet  may  be  named  as  one  in  which  the  sacredness  of 
the  original  political  head  is  dissociated  from  the  claim  based 
on  hereditary  descent ; for  the  Grand  Llama,  considered  as 
“ God  the  Father,”  incarnate  afresh  in  each  new  occupant  of 
the  throne,  is  discovered  among  the  people  at  large  by  certain 
indications  of  his  godhood.  But  with  his  divinity,  involving 
disconnexion  with  temporal  matters,  there  goes  absence  of 
political  power.  A like  state  of  things  exists  in  Bliotan. 

“ The  Dhurma  Baja  is  looked  upon  by  the  Bhotanese  in  the  same 
light  as  the  Grand  Lama  of  Thibet  is  viewed  by  his  subjects — namely 
as  a perpetual  incarnation  of  the  Deity,  or  Bhudda  himself  in  a corpo- 
real form.  During  the  interval  between  his  death  and  reappearance, 
or,  more  properly  speaking,  until  he  has  reached  an  age  sufficiently 
mature  to  ascend  his  spiritual  throne,  the  office  of  Dhurma  Baja  is 
filled  by  proxy  from  amongst  the  priesthood.35 

And  then  along  with  this  sacred  ruler  there  co-exists  a secular 
ruler.  Bliotan  “ has  two  nominal  heads,  known  to  us  and  to 
the  neighbouring  hill-tribes  under  the  Hindoostanee  names 
of  the  Dhurma  and  the  Deb  Bajas.  . . . The  former  is 
the  spiritual  head,  the  latter  the  temporal  one.”  Though  in 
this  case  the  temporal  head  has  not  great  influence  (probably 
because  the  priest-regent,  whose  celibacy  prevents  him  from 
founding  a line,  stands  in  the  way  of  unchecked  assumption 
of  power  by  the  temporal  head),  still  the  existence  of  a tem- 
poral head  implies  a partial  lapsing  of  political  functions  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  original  political  head.  But  the  most 
remarkable,  and  at  the  same  time  most  familiar,  example,  is 
that  furnished  by  Japan.  Here,  the  supplanting  of  inherited 
authority  by  deputed  authority  is  exemplified,  not  in  the 
central  government  alone,  but  in  the  local  governments. 

“ Next  to  the  prince  and  his  family  came  the  karos  or  c elders.5  Their 
office  became  hereditary,  and,  like  the  princes,  they  in  many  instances 


360 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


became  effete.  The  business  of  what  we  may  call  the  clan  would  thus 
fall  into  the  hands  of  any  clever  man  or  set  of  men  of  the  lower  ranks, 
who,  joining  ability  to  daring  and  unscrupulousness,  kept  the  princes 
and  the  karos  out  of  sight,  but  surrounded  with  empty  dignity,  and, 
commanding  the  opinion  of  the  bulk  of  the  samarai  or  military  class, 
wielded  the  real  power  themselves.  They  took  care,  however,  to  perform 
every  act  in  the  name  of  the  faineants , their  lords,  and  thus  we  hear 
of  . . . daimios,  just  as  in  the  case  of  the  Emperors,  accomplishing 
deeds  ...  of  which  they  were  perhaps  wholly  ignorant.” 

This  lapsing  of  political  power  into  the  hands  of  ministers 
was,  in  the  case  of  the  central  government,  doubly  illustrated. 
Successors  as  they  were  of  a god-descended  conqueror  whose 
rule  was  real,  the  Japanese  Emperors  gradually  became  only 
nominal  rulers  ; partly  because  of  the  sacredness  which  sepa- 
rated them  from  the  nation,  and  partly  because  of  the  early 
age  at  which  the  law  of  succession  frequently  enthroned 
them.  Their  deputies  consequently  gained  predominance. 
The  regency  in  the  ninth  century  “ became  hereditary  in  the 
Fujiwara  [sprung  from  the  imperial  house],  and  these  regents 
ultimately  became  all-powerful.  They  obtained  the  privilege 
of  opening  all  petitions  addressed  to  the  sovereign,  and  of  pre- 
senting or  rejecting  them  at  their  pleasure.”  And  then,  in 
course  of  time,  this  usurping  agency  had  its  own  authority 
usurped  in  like  manner.  Again  succession  by  fixed  rule  was 
rigorously  adhered  to;  and  again  seclusion  entailed  loss  of 
hold  on  affairs.  “ High  descent  was  the  only  qualification  for 
office,  and  unfitness  for  functions  was  not  regarded  in  the 
choice  of  officials.”  Besides  the  Shogun’s  four  confidential 
officers,  “ no  one  else  could  approach  him.  Whatever  might 
be  the  crimes  committed  at  Kama  Koura,  it  was  impossible, 
through  the  intrigues  of  these  favourites,  to  complain  of 
them  to  the  Seogoun.”  The  result  was  that  “ subsequently 
this  family  . . . gave  way  to  military  commanders,  who,” 

however,  often  became  the  instruments  of  other  chiefs. 

Though  less  definitely,  this  process  wTas  exemplified  during 
early  times  in  Europe.  The  Merovingian  kings,  to  whom  there 
clung  a tradition  of  supernatural  origin,  and  whose  order  of 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


361 


succession  was  so  far  settled  that  minors  reigned,  fell  under 
the  control  of  those  who  had  become  chief  ministers.  Long 
before  Childeric,  the  Merovingian  family  had  ceased  to  govern. 

“ The  treasures  and  the  power  of  the  kingdom  had  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  prefects  of  the  palace,  who  were  called  ‘ mayors  of  the 
palace/  and  to  whom  the  supreme  power  really  belonged.  The  prince 
was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  bearing  the  name  of  king,  having 
flowing  locks  and  a long  beard,  sitting  on  the  chair  of  State,  and  repre- 
senting the  image  of  the  monarch.” 

§ 481.  From  the  Evolution-standpoint  we  are  thus  enabled 
to  discern  the  relative  beneficence  of  institutions  which,  con- 
sidered absolutely,  are  not  beneficent;  and  are  taught  to 
approve  as  temporary  that  which,  as  permanent,  we  abhor. 
The  evidence  obliges  us  to  admit  that  subjection  to  despots 
has  been  largely  instrumental  in  advancing  civilization. 
Induction  and  deduction  alike  prove  this. 

If,  on  the  one  hand,  we  group  together  those  wandering 
headless  hordes  which  are  found  here  and  there  over  the 
Earth,  they  show  us  that,  in  the  absence  of  political  organiza- 
tion, little  progress  has  taken  place ; and  if  we  contemplate 
those  settled  simple  groups  which  have  but  nominal  heads, 
we  are  shown  that  though  there  is  some  development  of  the 
industrial  arts  and  some  cooperation,  the  advance  is  but 
small.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  glance  at  those  ancient 
societies  in  which  considerable  heights  of  civilization  were 
first  reached,  we  see  them  under  autocratic  rule.  In  America, 
purely  personal  government,  restricted  only  by  settled  customs, 
characterized  the  Mexican,  Central  American,  and  Chibclia 
states ; and  in  Peru,  the  absolutism  of  the  divine  king  was 
unqualified.  In  Africa,  ancient  Egypt  exhibited  very  con- 
spicuously this  connexion  between  despotic  control  and  social 
evolution.  Throughout  the  distant  past  it  was  repeatedly 
displayed  in  Asia,  from  the  Accadian  civilization  downwards ; 
and  the  still  extant  civilizations  of  Siam,  Burmah,  China,  and 
Japan,  re-illustrate  it.  Early  European  societies,  too,  where 
not  characterized  by  centralized  despotism,  were  still  cha- 


362 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


racterized  by  diffused  patriarchal  despotism.  Only  among 
modern  peoples,  whose  ancestors  passed  through  the  discipline 
given  under  this  social  form,  and  who  have  inherited  its 
effects,  is  civilization  being  dissociated  from  subjection  to 
individual  will. 

The  necessity  there  has  been  for  absolutism  is  best  seen  on 
observing  that,  during  inter-tribal  and  inter-national  conflicts, 
those  have  conquered  who,  other  things  equal,  were  the 
more  obedient  to  their  chiefs  and  kings.  And  since  in 
early  stages,  military  subordination  and  social  subordination 
go  together,  it  results  that,  for  a long  time,  the  conquering 
societies  continued  to  be  the  despotically-governed  societies. 
Such  exceptions  as  histories  appear  to  show  us,  really  prove 
the  rule.  In  the  conflict  between  Persia  and  Greece,  the 
Greeks,  but  for  a mere  accident,  would  have  been  ruined  by 
that  division  of  councils  which  results  from  absence  of  sub- 
jection to  a single  head.  And  their  habit  of  appointing  a 
dictator  when  in  great  danger  from  enemies,  implies  that  the 
Romans  had  discovered  that  efficiency  in  war  requires  un- 
divided control. 

Thus,  leaving  open  the  question  whether,  in  the  absence  of 
wrar,  wandering  primitive  groups  could  ever  have  developed 
into  settled  civilized  communities,  we  conclude  that,  under 
such  conditions  as . there  have  been,  those  struggles  for 
existence  among  societies  which  have  gone  on  consolidating 
smaller  into  larger,  until  great  nations  have  been  produced, 
necessitated  the  development  of  a social  type  characterized 
by  personal  rule  of  a stringent  kind. 


§ 482.  To  make  clear  the  genesis  of  this  leading  political 
institution,  let  us  set  down  in  brief  the  several  influences 
which  have  conspired  to  effect  it,  and  the  several  stages 
passed  through. 

In  the  rudest  groups,  resistance  to  the  assumption  of 
supremacy  by  any  individual,  usually  prevents  the  establish- 
ment of  settled  headship;  though  some  influence  is  com- 


POLITICAL  HEADS — CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC. 


363 


rnonly  acquired  by  superiority  of  strength,  or  courage,  or 
sagacity,  or  possessions,  or  the  experience  accompanying  age. 

In  such  groups,  and  in  tribes  somewhat  more  advanced, 
two  kinds  of  superiority  conduce  more  than  all  others  to 
predominance — that  of  the  warrior  and  that  of  the  medicine- 
man. Usually  separate,  but  sometimes  united  in  the  same 
person,  and  then  greatly  strengthening  him,  both  of  these 
superiorities  tending  to  initiate  political  headship,  continue 
thereafter  to  be  important  factors  in  developing  it. 

At  first,  however,  the  supremacy  acquired  by  great  natural 
power,  or  supposed  supernatural  powder,  or  both,  is  transitory 
— ceases  with  the  life  of  one  who  has  acquired  it.  So  long 
as  the  principle  of  efficiency  alone  operates,  political  headship 
does  not  become  settled.  It  becomes  settled  only  when  there 
cooperates  the  principle  of  inheritance. 

The  custom  of  reckoning  descent  through  females,  which 
characterizes  many  rude  societies  and  survives  in  others  that 
have  made  considerable  advances,  is  less  favourable  to  esta- 
blishment of  permanent  political  headship  than  is  the  custom 
of  reckoning  descent  through  males;  and  in  sundry  semi- 
civilized  societies  distinguished  by  permanent  political  head- 
ships, inheritance  through  males  has  been  established  in  the 
ruling  house  while  inheritance  through  females  survives  in 
the  society  at  large. 

Beyond  the  fact  that  reckoning  descent  through  males 
conduces  to  a more  coherent  family,  to  a greater  culture  of 
subordination,  and  to  a more  probable  union  of  inherited 
position  with  inherited  capacity,  there  is  the  more  important 
fact  that  it  fosters  ancestor-worship,  and  the  consequent  re- 
inforcing of  natural  authority  by  supernatural  authority. 
Development  of  the  ghost-theory,  leading  as  it  does  to  special 
fear  of  the  ghosts  of  powerful  men,  until,  where  many  tribes 
have  been  welded  together  by  a conqueror,  his  ghost  acquires 
in  tradition  the  pre-eminence  of  a god,  produces  two  effects. 
In  the  first  place  his  descendant,  ruling  after  him,  is  supposed 
to  partake  of  his  divine  nature  ; and  in  the  second  place,  by 
7 


364 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


propitiatory  sacrifices  to  him,  is  supposed  to  obtain  his  aid. 
Rebellion  hence  comes  to  be  regarded  as  alike  wicked  and 
hopeless. 

The  processes  by  which  political  headships  are  established 
repeat  themselves  at  successively  higher  stages.  In  simple 
groups  chieftainship  is  at  first  temporary — ceases  with  the 
war  which  initiated  it.  When  simple  groups  that  have 
acquired  permanent  political  heads,  unite  for  military  pur- 
poses, the  general  chieftainship  is  originally  but  temporary. 
As  in  simple  groups  chieftainship  is  at  the  outset  habitually 
elective,  and  becomes  hereditary  at  a later  stage ; so  chief- 
tainship of  the  compound  group  is  habitually  elective  at  the 
outset,  and  only  later  passes  into  the  hereditary.  Similarly 
in  some  cases  where  a doubly-compound  society  is  formed. 
Further,  this  later-established  power  of  a supreme  ruler,  at 
first  given  by  election  and  presently  gained  by  descent,  is 
commonly  less  than  that  of  the  local  rulers  in  their  own 
localities  ; and  wdien  it  becomes  greater,  it  is  usually  by  the 
help  of  ascribed  divine  origin  or  ascribed  divine  commission. 

Where,  in  virtue  of  supposed  supernatural  genesis  or 
authority,  the  king  has  become  absolute,  and,  owning  both 
subjects  and  territory,  exercises  all  powers,  he  is  obliged  by 
the  multiplicity  of  his  affairs  to  depute  his  powers.  There 
follows  a reactive  restraint  due  to  the  political  machinery  he 
creates ; and  this  machinery  ever  tends  to  become  too  strong 
for  him.  Especially  where  rigorous  adhesion  to  the  rule  of 
inheritance  brings  incapables  to  the  throne,  or  where  ascribed 
divine  nature  causes  inaccessibility  save  through  agents,  or 
where  both  causes  conspire,  power  passes  into  the  hands  of 
deputies.  The  legitimate  ruler  becomes  an  automaton  and 
his  chief  agent  the  real  ruler ; and  this  agent,  again,  in  some 
cases  passing  through  parallel  stages,  himself  becomes  an  auto- 
maton and  his  subordinates  the  rulers. 

Lastly,  by  colligation  and  comparison  of  the  facts,  we  are 
led  to  recognize  the  indirectly-achieved  benefits  which  have 
followed  the  directly-inflicted  evils  of  personal  government. 


POLITICAL  HEADS— CHIEFS,  KINGS,  ETC.  365 

Headship  of  the  conquering  chief  has  been  a normal  accom- 
paniment of  that  political  integration  without  which  any  high 
degree  of  social  evolution  would  probably  have  been  impos- 
sible. Only  by  imperative  need  for  combination  in  war  were 
primitive  men  led  into  cooperation.  Only  by  subjection  to 
imperative  command  was  such  cooperation  made  efficient. 
And  only  by  the  cooperation  thus  initiated  were  made  pos- 
sible those  other  forms  of  cooperation  characterizing  civilized 
life. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 

§ 483.  In  the  preceding  chapter  we  traced  the  development 
of  the  first  element  in  that  tri-une  political  structure  which 
everywhere  shows  itself  at  the  outset.  We  pass  now  to  the 
development  of  the  second  element — the  group  of  leading 
men  among  whom  the  chief  is,  at  first,  merely  the  most  con- 
spicuous. Under  what  conditions  this  so  evolves  as  to  sub- 
ordinate the  other  two,  what  causes  make  it  narrower,  and 
what  causes  widen  it  until  it  passes  into  the  third,  we  have 
here  to  observe. 

If  the  innate  feelings  and  aptitudes  of  a race  have  large 
shares  in  determining  the  sizes  and  cohesions  of  the  social 
groups  it  forms,  still  more  must  they  have  large  shares  in  de- 
termining the  relations  which  arise  among  the  members  of 
such  groups.  While  the  mode  of  life  followed  tends  to  gene- 
rate this  or  that  political  structure,  its  effects  are  always  com- 
plicated by  the  effects  of  inherited  character.  Whether  or 
not  the  primitive  state  in  which  governing  power  is  equally 
distributed  among  all  warriors  or  all  elders,  passes  into  the 
state  in  which  governing  power  is  monopolized  by  one, 
depends  in  part  on  the  life  of  the  group  as  predatory  or 
peaceful,  and  in  part  on  the  natures  of  its  members  as 
prompting  them  to  oppose  dictation  more  or  less  doggedly. 
A few  facts  will  make  this  clear. 

The  Arafuras  (Papuan  Islanders)  who  “ live  in  peace  and 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


367 


brotherly  love/'  have  no  other  “ authority  among  them  than 
the  decisions  of  their  elders/’  Among  the  harmless  Todas 
“ all  disputes  and  questions  of  right  and  wrong  are  settled 
either  by  arbitration  or  by  a Punchayet — i.e.,  a council  of 
five.”  Of  the  Bodo  and  the  Dhimals,  described  as  averse  to 
military  service,  and  “ totally  free  from  arrogance,  revenge, 
cruelty,  and  fierte ,”  we  read  that  though  each  of  their  small 
communities  has  a nominal  head  who  pays  the  tribute  on  its 
behalf,  yet  he  is  without  power,  and  “ disputes  are  settled 
among  themselves  by  juries  of  elders/’  In  these 

cases,  besides  absence  of  the  causes  which  bring  about  chiefly 
supremacy,  may  be  noted  the  presence  of  causes  which 
directly  hinder  it.  The  Papuans  generally,  typified  by  the 
Arafuras  above-named,  while  described  by  Modera,  Ross, 
and  Kolff,  as  “ good-natured,”  “ of  a mild  disposition,”  kind 
and  peaceful  to  strangers,  are  said  by  Earl  to  be  unfit  for 
military  action : “ their  impatience  of  control  . . . utterly 

precludes  that  organization  which  would  enable”  the  Papuans 
“ to  stand  their  ground  against  encroachments.”  The  Bodo 
and  the  Dhimals  while  “ they  are  void  of  all  violence  towards 
their  own  people  or  towards  their  neighbours”  also  “resist 
injunctions,  injudiciously  urged,  with  dogged  obstinacy.” 
And  of  a kindred  “very  fascinating  people,”  the  Lepchas, 
amiable,  peaceful,  kind,  as  travellers  unite  in  describing 
them,  and  who  refuse  to  take  service  as  soldiers,  we  are  told 
that  they  will  “ undergo  great  privation  rather  than  submit 
to  oppression  or  injustice.” 

Where  the  repugnance  to  control  is  strong,  an  uncen- 
tralized political  organization  is  maintained  notwithstanding 
the  warlike  activities  which  tend  to  initiate  chieftainship. 
The  Nagas  “ acknowledge  no  king  among  themselves,  and 
deride  the  idea  of  such  a personage  among  others their 
“ villages  are  continually  at  feud “ every  man  being  his  own 
master,  his  passions  and  inclinations  are  ruled  by  his  share  of 
brute  force.”  And  then  we  further  find  that — 

M Petty  disputes  and  disagreements  about  property  are  settled  by  a 


368 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


council  of  elders,  the  litigants  voluntarily  submitting  to  their  arbitra- 
tion. But  correctly  speaking,  there  is  not  the  shadow  of  a constituted 
authority  in  the  Naga  community,  and,  wonderful  as  it  may  seem,  this 
want  of  government  does  not  lead  to  any  marked  degree  of  anarchy.” 
Similarly  among  the  warlike  tribes  of  North  America. 
Speaking  of  these  people  at  large,  Schoolcraft  says  that  “they 
all  wish  to  govern,  and  not  to  be  governed.  Every  Indian 
thinks  he  has  a right  to  do  as  he  pleases,  and  that  no  one  is 
better  than  himself ; and  he  will  fight  before  he  will  give  up 
what  he  thinks  right.”  Of  the  Comanches,  as  an  example,  he 
remarks  that  “ the  democratic  principle  is  strongly  implanted 
in  them ;”  and  that  for  governmental  purposes  “ public 
councils  are  held  at  regular  intervals  during  the  year.”  Fur- 
ther, we  read  that  in  districts  of  ancient  Central  America 
there  existed  somewhat  more  advanced  societies  which,  though 
warlike,  were  impelled  by  a kindred  jealousy  to  provide 
against  monopoly  of  power.  The  government  was  carried  on 
by  an  elective  council  of  old  men  who  appointed  a war  chief ; 
and  this  war  chief,  “if  suspected  of  plotting  against  the 
safety  of  the  commonwealth,  or  for  the  purpose  of  securing 
supreme  power  in  his  own  hands,  was  rigorously  put  to  death 
by  the  council.” 

Though  the  specialities  of  character  which  thus  lead  certain 
kinds  of  men  in  early  stages  to  originate  compound  political 
heads,  and  to  resist,  even  under  stress  of  war,  the  rise  of 
single  political  heads,  are  innate,  we  are  not  without  clues  to 
the  circumstances  which  have  made  them  innate ; and  with 
a view  to  interpretations  presently  to  be  made,  it  will  be 
useful  to  glance  at  these.  The  Comanches  and  kindred 
tribes,  roaming  about  in  small  bands,  active  and  skilful 
horsemen,  have,  through  long  past  periods,  been  so  con- 
ditioned as  to  make  coercion  of  one  man  by  another  difficult. 
So,  too,  has  it  been,  though  in  another  way,  with  the  Nagas. 
“ They  inhabit  a rough  and  intricate  mountain  range and 
their  villages  are  perched  “ on  the  crests  of  ridges.”  Again, 
significant  evidence  is  furnished  by  a remark  of  Captain 
Burton  to  the  effect  that  in  Africa,  as  in  Asia,  there  are  three 


COMPOUND  POLiITCAL  HEADS. 


369 


distinct  forms  of  government — military  despotisms,  feudal 
monarchies,  and  rude  republics:  the  rude  republics  being 
those  formed  by  “ the  Bedouin  tribes,  the  hill  people,  and  the 
jungle  races.”  Clearly,  the  names  of  these  last  show  that 
they  inhabit  regions  which,  hindering  by  their  physical 
characters  a centralized  form  of  government,  favour  a more 
diffused  form  of  government,  and  the  less  decided  political 
subordination  which  is  its  concomitant. 

These  facts  are  obviously  related  to  certain  others  already 
named.  We  saw  in  § 17,  and  again  in  § 449,  that  it  is  rela- 
tively easy  to  form  a large  society  if  the  country  is  one  within 
which  all  parts  are  readily  accessible,  while  it  has  barriers 
through  which  exit  is  difficult ; and  that,  conversely,  forma- 
tion of  a large  society  is  prevented,  or  greatly  delayed,  by 
difficulties  of  communication  within  the  occupied  area,  and 
by  facilities  of  escape  from  it.  Here  we  see,  further,  that  not 
only  is  political  integration  under  its  primary  aspect  of  in- 
creasing mass,  hindered  by  these  last-named  physical  condi- 
tions, but  that  there  is  hindrance  to  the  development  of  a more 
integrated  form  of  government.  The  ^circumstances  which 
impede  social  consolidation  also  impede  the  concentration  of 
political  power. 

The  truth  here  chiefly  concerning  us,  however,  is  that  the 
continued  presence  of  the  one  or  the  other  set  of  conditions, 
fosters  a character  to  which  either  the  centralized  political 
organization  or  the  diffused  political  organization  is  appro- 
priate. Existence,  generation  after  generation,  in  a region 
where  despotic  control  has  arisen,  produces  an  adapted  type 
of  nature ; partly  by  daily  habit  and  partly  by  survival  of 
those  most  fit  for  living  under  such  control.  Contrariwise,  in 
a region  favouring  preservation  of  their  independence  by 
small  groups,  there  is  a strengthening,  through  successive 
ages,  of  sentiments  averse  to  restraint ; since,  not  only  are 
these  sentiments  exercised  in  all  members  of  a group 
by  resisting  the  efforts  from  time  to  time  made  to  sub- 
ordinate it,  but,  on  the  average,  those  who  most  per- 


370 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


tinaciously  resist  are  those  who,  remaining  unsubdued,  and 
transmitting  their  mental  traits  to  posterity,  determine  the 
character  of  the  race. 

Having  thus  glanced  at  the  effects  of  the  factors,  external 
and  internal,  as  displayed  in  simple  tribes,  we  shall  under- 
stand how  they  cooperate  when,  by  migration  or  otherwise, 
such  tribes  fall  into  circumstances  favouring  the  growth  of 
large  societies. 

§ 484.  The  case  of  an  uncivilized  people  of  the  nature  de- 
scribed, who  have  in  recent  times  shown  what  occurs  when 
union  of  small  groups  into  great  ones  is  prompted,  will  best 
initiate  the  interpretation. 

The  Iroquois  nations,  each  made  up  of  many  tribes  pre- 
viously hostile,  had  to  defend  themselves  against  European 
invaders.  Combination  for  this  purpose  among  these  five 
(and  finally  six)  nations,  necessitated  a recognition  of  equality 
among  them ; since  agreement  to  join  would  not  have  been 
arrived  at  had  it  been  required  that  some  divisions  should  be 
subject  to  others.  The  groups  had  to  cooperate  on  the  under- 
standing that  their  “ rights,  privileges  and  obligations”  should 
be  the  same.  Though  the  numbers  of  permanent  and  here- 
ditary sachems  appointed  by  the  respective  nations  to  form 
the  Great  Council,  differed,  yet  the  voices  of  the  several 
nations  were  equal.  Omitting  details  of  the  organization,  we 
have  to  note,  first,  that  for  many  generations,  notwithstanding 
the  wars  which  this  league  carried  on,  its  constitution  re- 
mained stable — no  supreme  individual  arose;  and,  second, 
that  this  equality  among  the  powers  of  the  groups  co-existed 
with  inequality  within  each  group : the  people  had  no  share 
in  its  government. 

A clue  is  thus  furnished  to  the  genesis  of  those  compound 
heads  with  which  ancient  history  familiarizes  us.  We  are 
enabled  to  see  how  there  came  to  co-exist  in  the  same  socie- 
ties, some  institutions  of  a despotic  kind,  with  other  institu- 
tions of  a kind  appearing  to  be  based  on  the  principle  of 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


371 


equality,  and  often  confounded  witli  free  institutions.  Let  us 
recall  the  antecedents  of  those  early  European  peoples  who 
developed  governments  of  this  form. 

During  the  wandering  pastoral  life,  subordination  to  a 
single  head  was  made  habitual.  A recalcitrant  member  of 
any  group  had  either  to  submit  to  the  authority  under  which 
he  had  grown  up,  or,  rebelling,  had  to  leave  the  group  and 
face  those  risks  which  unprotected  life  in  the  wilderness 
threatened.  The  establishment  of  this  subordination  was 
furthered  by  the  more  frequent  survival  of  groups  in  which 
it  was  greatest ; since,  in  the  conflicts  between  groups,  those 
of  which  the  members  were  insubordinate,  ordinarily  being 
both  smaller  and  less  able  to  cooperate  effectually,  w7ere  the 
more  likely  to  disappear.  But  now  to  the  fact  that  in  such 
families  and  clans,  obedience  to  the  father  and  to  the  patriarch 
was  fostered  by  circumstances,  has  to  be  added  the  fact  above 
emphasized,  that  circumstances  also  fostered  the  sentiment  of 
liberty  in  the  relations  between  clans.  The  exercise  of  power 
by  one  of  them  over  another,  was  made  difficult  by  wide 
scattering  and  by  great  mobility;  and  with  successful  oppo- 
sition to  external  coercion,  or  evasion  of  it,  carried  on  through 
numberless  generations,  the  tendency  to  resent  and  resist  all 
strange  authority  was  likely  to  become  strong. 

Whether,  when  groups  thus  disciplined  aggregate,  they 
assume  this  or  that  form  of  political  organization,  depends 
partly,  as  already  implied,  on  the  conditions  into  which  they 
fall.  Even  could  we  omit  those  differences  between  Mongols, 
Semites,  and  Aryans,  established  in  prehistoric  times  by 
causes  unknown  to  us,  or  even  had  complete  likeness  of 
nature  been  produced  among  them  by  long-continued  pastoral 
life ; yet  large  societies  formed  by  combinations  of  their 
small  hordes,  could  be  similar  in  type  only  under  similar 
circumstances.  In  unfavourableness  of  circumstances  is  to 
be  found  the  reason  why  Mongols  and  Semites,  where  they 
have  settled  and  multiplied,  have  failed  to  maintain  the 
autonomies  of  their  hordes  after  combination  of  them,  and  to 


372 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


evolve  the  resulting  institutions.  Even  the  Aryans,  among 
whom  chiefly  the  less  concentrated  forms  of  political  rule 
have  arisen,  show  us  that  almost  everything  depends  on 
favourable  or  unfavourable  conditions  fallen  into.  Originally 
inheriting  in  common  the  mental  traits  generated  during 
their  life  in  the  Hindu  Koosh  and  its  neighbourhood,  the 
different  divisions  of  the  race  have  developed  different  insti- 
tutions and  accompanying  characters.  Those  of  them  who 
spread  into  the  plains  of  India,  where  great  fertility  made 
possible  a large  population,  to  the  control  of  which  there 
were  small  physical  impediments,  lost  their  independence  of 
nature,  and  did  not  evolve  political  systems  like  those  which 
grew  up  among  their  Western  kindred,  under  circumstances 
furthering  maintenance  of  the  original  character. 

The  implication  is,  then,  that  where  groups  of  the  patri- 
archal type  fall  into  regions  permitting  considerable  growth 
of  population,  but  having  physical  structures  which  impede 
the  centralization  of  power,  compound  political  heads  will 
arise,  and  for  a time  sustain  themselves,  through  cooperation 
of  the  two  factors — independence  of  local  groups  and  need 
for  union  in  war.  Let  us  consider  some  examples. 

§ 485.  The  island  of  Crete  has  numerous  high  mountain 
valleys  containing  good  pasturage,  and  provides  many  seats 
for  strongholds — seats  which  ruins  prove  that  the  ancient 
inhabitants  utilized.  Similarly  with  the  mainland  of  Greece. 
A complicated  mountain  system  cuts  off  its  parts  from  one 
another  and  renders  each  difficult  of  access.  Especially  is 
this  so  in  the  Peloponnesus  ; and,  above  all,  in  the  part  occu- 
pied by  the  Spartans.  It  has  been  remarked  that  the  State 
which  possesses  both  sides  of  Taygetus,  has  it  in  its  power  to 
be  master  of  the  peninsula  : “ it  is  the  Acropolis  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnese,  as  that  country  is  of  the  rest  of  Greece.” 

When,  over  the  earlier  inhabitants,  there  came  successive 
waves  of  Hellenic  conquerors,  these  brought  with  them  the 
type  of  nature  and  organization  common  to  the  Aryans,  dis- 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


373 


playing  tlie  united  traits  above  described.  Such  a people 
taking  possession  of  such  a land,  inevitably  fell  in  course  of 
time  “ into  as  many  independent  clans  as  the  country  itself 
was  divided  by  its  mountain  chains  into  valleys  and  dis- 
tricts.” From  separation  resulted  alienation  ; so  that  those 
remote  from  one  another,  becoming  strangers,  became  ene- 
mies. In  early  Greek  times  the  clans,  occupying  mountain 
villages,  were  so  liable  to  incursions  from  one  another  that 
the  planting  of  fruit  trees  was  a waste  of  labour.  There 
existed  a state  like  that  seen  at  present  among  such  Indian- 
hill  tribes  as  the  Nagas. 

Though  preserving  the  tradition  of  a common  descent,  and 
owning  allegiance  to  the  oldest  male  representative  of  the 
patriarch,  a people  spreading  over  a region  which  thus  cut  off 
from  one  another  even  adjacent  small  groups,  and  still  more 
those  remoter  clusters  of  groups  arising  in  course  of  genera- 
tions, would  inevitably  become  disunited  in  government: 
subjection  to  a general  head  would  be  more  and  more  difficult 
to  maintain,  and  subjection  to  local  heads  would  alone  con- 
tinue practicable.  At  the  same  time  there  would  arise,  under 
such  conditions,  increasing  causes  of  insubordination.  When 
the  various  branches  of  a common  family  are  so  separated  as 
to  prevent  intercourse,  their  respective  histories,  and  the  lines 
of  descent  of  their  respective  heads,  must  become  unknown, 
or  but  partially  known,  to  one  another  ; and  claims  to  supre- 
macy made  now  by  this  local  head  and  now  by  that,  are  cer- 
tain to  be  disputed.  If  we  remember  how,  even  in  settled 
societies  having  records,  there  have  been  perpetual  conflicts 
about  rights  of  succession,  and  how,  down  to  our  own  day, 
there  are  frequent  law-suits  to  decide  on  heirships  to  titles 
and  properties,  we  cannot  but  infer  that  in  a state  like  that 
of  the  early  Greeks,  the  difficulty  of  establishing  the  legiti- 
macy of  general  headships,  conspiring  with  the  desire  to 
assert  independence  and  the  ability  to  maintain  it,  inevitably 
entailed  lapse  into  numerous  local  headships.  Of  course, 
under  conditions  varying  in  each  locality,  splittings-up  of 


374 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


wider  governments  into  narrower  went  to  different  extents  ; 
and  naturally,  too,  re-establishments  of  wider  governments  or 
extensions  of  narrower  ones  in  some  cases  took  place.  But, 
generally,  the  tendency  under  such  conditions  was  to  form 
small  independent  groups,  severally  having  the  patriarchal 
type  of  organization.  Hence,  then,  the  decay  of  such  king- 
ships  as  are  implied  in  the  Iliad*  As  Grote  writes — “ When  we 
approach  historical  Greece,  we  find  that  (with  the  exception 
of  Sparta)  the  primitive,  hereditary,  unresponsible  monarch, 
uniting  in  himself  all  the  functions  of  government,  has  ceased 
to  reign.”* 

Let  us  now  ask  what  will  happen  when  a cluster  of  clans 
of  common  descent,  which  have  become  independent  and 
hostile,  are  simultaneously  endangered  by  enemies  to  whom 
they  are  not  at  all  akin,  or  but  remotely  akin  ? Habitually 
they  will  sink  their  differences  and  cooperate  for  defence.  But 
on  what  terms  will  they  cooperate  ? Even  among  friendly 
groups,  joint  action  would  be  hindered  if  some  claimed  supre- 
macy ; and  among  groups  having  out-standing  feuds  there 
could  be  no  joint  action  save  on  a footing  of  equality.  The 
common  defence  would,  therefore,  be  directed  by  a body 

* While  I am  writing,  the  just-issued  third  volume  of  Mr.  Skene’s  Celtic 
Scotland , supplies  me  with  an  illustration  of  the  process  above  indicated.  It 
appears  that  the  original  Celtic  tribes  which  formed  the  earldoms  of  Moray, 
Buchan,  Athol,  Angus,  Menteith,  became  broken  up  into  clans ; and  how 
influential  was  the  physical  character  of  the  country  in  producing  this  result, 
we  are  shown  by  the  fact  that  this  change  took  place  in  the  parts  of  them 
which  fell  within  the  highland  country.  Describing  the  smaller  groups 
which  resulted,  Mr.  Skene  says  : — “ While  the  clan,  viewed  as  a single  com* 
munity,  thus  consisted  of  the  chief,  with  his  kinsmen  to  a certain  limited 
degree  of  relationship  ; the  commonalty  who  were  of  the  same  blood,  who  all 
bore  the  same  name,  and  his  dependents,  consisting  of  subordinate  septs  of 
native  men,  who  did  not  claim  to  be  of  the  blood  of  the  chief,  but  were  either 
probably  descended  from  the  more  ancient  occupiers  of  the  soil,  or  were 
broken  men  from  other  clans,  who  had  taken  protection  with  him.  . . . 
Those  kinsmen  of  the  chief  who  acquired  the  property  of  their  land  founded 
families.  . . . The  most  influential  of  these  was  that  of  the  oldest  cadet  in 
the  family  which  had  been  longest  separated  from  the  main  stem,  and  usually 
presented  the  appearance  of  a rival  house  little  less  powerful  than  that  of  tho 
chief.’1 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


375 


formed  of  the  heads  of  the  cooperating  small  societies  ; and 
if  the  cooperation  for  defence  was  prolonged,  or  became 
changed  into  cooperation  for  offence,  this  temporary  control- 
ling body  would  naturally  grow  into  a permanent  one,  holding 
the  small  societies  together.  The  special  characters  of 

this  compound  head  would,  of  course,  vary  with  the  circum- 
stances. Where  the  traditions  of  the  united  clans  agreed  in 
identifying  some  one  chief  as  the  lineal  representative  of  the 
original  patriarch  or  hero,  from  whom  all  descended,  prece- 
dence and  some  extra  authority  would  be  permitted  to  him. 
Where  claims  derived  from  descent  were  disputed,  personal 
superiority  or  election  would  determine  which  member  of  the 
compound  head  should  take  the  lead.  If  within  each  of  the 
component  groups  chiefly  power  was  unqualified,  there  would 
result  from  union  of  chiefs  a close  oligarchy ; while  the  close- 
ness of  the  oligarchy  would  become  less  in  proportion  as 
recognition  of  the  authority  of  each  chief  diminished.  And 
in  cases  where  there  came  to  be  incorporated  numerous 
aliens,  owing  allegiance  to  the  heads  of  none  of  the  compo- 
nent groups,  there  would  arise  influences  tending  still  more 
to  widen  the  oligarchy. 

Such,  we  may  conclude,  were  the  origins  of  those  com- 
pound headships  of  the  Greek  states  which  existed  at  the 
beginning  of  the  historic  period.  In  Crete,  where  there  sur- 
vived the  tradition  of  primitive  kingship,  but  where  disper- 
sion and  subdivision  of  clans  had  brought  about  a condition 
in  which  f<  different  towns  carried  on  open  feuds,5’  there  were 
“ patrician  houses,  deriving  their  rights  from  the  early  ages  of 
royal  government,55  who  continued  “ to  retain  possession  of 
the  administration.55  In  Corinth  the  line  of  Herakleid  kings 
“ subsides  gradually,  through  a series  of  empty  names,  into 
the  oligarchy  denominated  Bacchiadce.  . . . The  persons  so 
named  were  all  accounted  descendants  of  Herakles,  and  formed 
the  governing  caste  in  the  city.55  So  was  it  with  Megara. 
According  to  tradition,  this  arose  by  combination  of  several 
villages  inhabited  by  kindred  tribes,  which,  originally  in 


376 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


antagonism  with  Corinth,  had,  probably  in  the  course  of  this 
antagonism,  become  consolidated  into  an  independent  state. 
At  the  opening  of  the  historic  period  the  like  had  happened 
in  Sikyon  and  other  places.  Sparta,  too,  “ always  maintained, 
down  to  the  times  of  the  despot  Nabis,  its  primitive  aspect 
of  a group  of  adjacent  hill- villages  rather  than  a regular  city.” 
Though  in  Sparta  kingship  had  survived  under  an  anomalous 
form,  yet  the  joint  representatives  of  the  primitive  king,  still 
reverenced  because  the  tradition  of  their  divine  descent  was 
preserved,  had  become  little  more  than  members  of  the 
governing  oligarchy,  retaining  certain  prerogatives.  And 
though  it  is  true  that  in  its  earliest  historically-known  stage, 
the  Spartan  oligarchy  did  not  present  the  form  which  would 
spontaneously  arise  from  the  union  of  chiefs  of  clans  for  co- 
operation in  war — though  it  had  become  elective  within  a 
limited  class  of  persons ; yet  the  fact  that  an  age  of  not  less 
than  sixty  was  a qualification,  harmonizes  with  the  belief  that 
it  at  first  consisted  of  the  heads  of  the  respective  groups,  who 
were  always  the  eldest  sons  of  the  eldest ; and  that  these 
groups  with  their  heads,  described  as  having  been  in  pre- 
Lykurgean  times,  “the  most  lawless  of  all  the  Greeks,” 
became  united  by  that  continuous  militant  life  which  dis- 
tinguished them.* 

# As  bearing  on  historical  interpretations  at  large,  and  especially  on  inter- 
pretations to  be  made  in  this  work,  let  me  point  out  further  reasons  than 
those  given  by  Grote  and  others  for  rejecting  the  tradition  that  the  Spartan 
constitution  was  the  work  of  Lykurgus.  The  universal  tendency  to  ascribe 
an  effect  to  the  most  conspicuous  proximate  cause,  is  especially  strong  where 
the  effect  is  one  of  which  the  causation  is  involved.  Our  own  time  has  fur- 
nished an  illustration  in  the  ascription  of  Corn-law  Repeal  to  Sir  Robert 
Peel,  and  after  him  to  Messrs.  Cobden  and  R right : leaving  Colonel  Thomp- 
son un-named.  In  the  next  generation  tbe  man  who  for  a time  carried  on 
the  fight  single-handed,  and  forged  sundry  of  the  weapons  used  by  the  vic- 
tors, will  be  unheard  of  in  connexion  with  it.  It  is  not  enough,  however,  to 
suspect  that  Lykurgus  was  simply  the  finisher  of  other  men’s  work.  Wo 
may  reasonably  suspect  that  the  work  was  that  of  no  man,  but  simply  that 
of  the  needs  and  the  conditions.  This  may  be  seen  in  the  institution  of  the 
public  mess.  If  we  ask  what  will  happen  with  a small  people  who,  for  gene- 
rations spreading  as  conquerors,  have  a contempt  for  all  industry,  and  who, 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


377 


The  Eomans  exemplify  the  rise  of  a compound  headship 
under  conditions  which,  though  partially  different  from  those 
the  Greeks  were  subject  to,  were  allied  fundamentally.  In 
its  earliest-known  state,  Latium  was  occupied  by  village- 
communities,  which  were  united  into  cantons  ; while  these 
cantons  formed  a league  headed  by  Alba — a canton  regarded 
as  the  oldest  and  most  eminent.  This  combination  was  for 
joint  defence ; as  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  each  group  of 
clan-villages  composing  a canton,  had  an  elevated  stronghold 
in  common,  and  also  by  the  fact  that  the  league  of  cantons 
had  for  its  centre  and  place  of  refuge,  Alba,  the  most  strongly 
placed  as  well  as  the  oldest.  The  component  cantons  of  the 
league  were  so  far  independent  that  there  were  wars  between 
them ; whence  we  may  infer  that  when  they  cooperated  for 
joint  defence  it  was  on  substantially  equal  terms.  Thus 
before  Kome  existed,  the  people  who  formed  it  had  been 
habituated  to  a kind  of  life  such  that,  with  great  subordina- 
tion in  each  family  and  clan,  and  partial  subordination  within 
each  canton  (which  was  governed  by  a prince,  council  of  elders, 
and  assembly  of  warriors),  there  went  a union  of  heads  of 
cantons,  who  were  in  no  degree  subordinate  one  to  another. 
When  the  inhabitants  of  three  of  these  cantons,  the  Eamnians, 
Titles,  and  Luceres,  began  to  occupy  the  tract  on  which  Eome 
stands,  they  brought  with  them  their  political  organization. 

when  not'  at  war,  pass  their  time  in  exercises  fitting  them  for  war,  it  becomes 
manifest  that  at  first  the  daily  assembling  to  carry  on  these  exercises  will  entail 
the  daily  bringing  of  provisions  by  each.  As  happens  in  those  pic-nics  in 
which  all  who  join  contribute  to  the  common  repast,  a certain  obligation 
respecting  quantities  and  qualities  will  naturally  arise — an  obligation  which, 
repeated  daily,  will  pass  from  custom  into  law : ending  in  a specification  of 
the  kinds  and  amounts  of  food.  Further,  it  is  to  be  expected  that  as  the  law 
thus  arises  in  an  age  when  food  is  coarse  and  unvaried,  the  simplicity  of  the 
diet,  originally  unavoidable,  will  eventually  be  considered  as  intended — as  an 
ascetic  regimen  deliberately  devised.  [When  writing  this  I was  not  aware 
that,  as  pointed  out  by  Prof.  Paley  in  Fraser's  Magazine , for  February, 
1881,  among  the  Greeks  of  later  times,  it  was  common  to  have  dinners  to 
which  each  guest  brought  his  share  of  provisions,  and  that  those  who  con- 
tributed little  and  consumed  much  were  objects  of  satire.  This  fact  increases 
the  probability  that  the  Spartan  mess  originated  as  suggested.] 


378 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


The  oldest  Roman  patricians  bore  the  names  of  rural  clans 
belonging  to  these  cantons.  Whether,  when  seating  them- 
selves on  the  Palatine  hills  and  on  the  Quirinal,  they  pre- 
served their  cantonal  divisions,  is  not  clear ; though  it  seems 
probable  a priori.  But,  however  this  may  be,  there  is  proof 
that  they  fortified  themselves  against  one  another,  as  well  as 
against  outer  enemies.  The  “ mount-men  ” of  the  Palatine 
and  the  “ hill-men  ” of  the  Quirinal  were  habitually  at  feud ; 
and  even  among  the  minor  divisions  of  those  who  occupied 
the  Palatine,  there  were  dissensions.  As  Mommsen  says, 
primitive  Rome  was  “ rather  an  aggregate  of  urban  settle- 
ments than  a single  city,”  And  that  the  clans  who  formed 
these  settlements  brought  with  them  their  enmities,  is  to  be 
inferred  from  the  fact  that  not  only  did  they  fortify  the  hills 
on  which  they  fixed  themselves,  but  even  “ the  houses  of  the 
old  and  powerful  families  were  constructed  somewhat  after 
the  manner  of  fortresses.” 

So  that  again,  in  the  case  of  Rome,  we  see  a cluster  of 
small  independent  communities,  allied  in  blood  but  partially 
antagonistic,  which  had  to  cooperate  against  enemies  on  such 
terms  as  all  would  agree  to.  In  early  Greece  the  means  of 
defence  were,  as  Grote  remarks,  greater  than  the  means  of 
attack ; and  it  was  the  same  in  early  Rome.  Hence,  while 
coercive  rule  within  the  family  and  the  group  of  related 
families  w7as  easy,  there  was  difficulty  in  extending  coercion 
over  many  such  groups : fortified  as  they  were  against  one 
another.  Moreover,  the  stringency  of  government  within 
each  of  the  communities  constituting  the  primitive  city,  was 
diminished  by  facility  of  escape  from  one  and  admission  into 
another.  As  we  have  seen  among  simple  tribes,  desertions 
take  place  when  the  rule  is  harsh  ; and  we  may  infer  that,  in 
primitive  Rome  there  was  a check  on  exercise  of  force  by  the 
more  powerful  families  in  each  settlement  over  the  less 
powerful,  caused  by  the  fear  that  migration  might  wreaken  the 
settlement  and  strengthen  an  adjacent  one.  Thus  the  cir- 
cumstances were  such  that  wffien,  for  defence  of  the  city,  co- 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


379 


operation  became  needful,  the  heads  of  the  clans  included  in 
its  several  divisions  came  to  have  substantially  equal  powers. 
The  original  senate  was  the  collective  body  of  clan-elders; 
and  “ this  assembly  of  elders  was  the  ultimate  holder  of  the 
ruling  power it  was  “ an  assembly  of  kings.”  At 

the  same  time,  the  heads  of  families  in  each  clan,  forming 
the  body  of  burgesses,  stood,  for  like  reasons,  on  equal 
footing.  Primarily  for  command  in  war,  there  was  an  elected 
head,  who  was  also  chief  magistrate.  Though  not  having  the 
authority  given  by  alleged  divine  descent,  he  had  the  autho- 
rity given  by  supposed  divine  approval ; and,  himself  bearing 
the  insignia  of  a god,  he  retained  till  death  the  absoluteness 
appropriate  to  one.  But  besides  the  fact  that  the  choice, 
originally  made  by  the  senate,  had  to  be  again  practically 
made  by  it  in  case  of  sudden  vacancy ; and  besides  the  fact 
that  each  king,  nominated  by  his  predecessor,  had  to  be  ap- 
proved by  the  assembled  burgesses ; there  is  the  fact  that  the 
king's  power  was  executive  only.  The  assembly  of  burgesses 
“ was  in  law  superior  to,  rather  than  co-ordinate  with,  the 
king.”  Further,  in  the  last  resort  was  exercised  the  supreme 
power  of  the  senate ; which  was  the  guardian  of  the  law 
and  could  veto  the  joint  decision  of  king  and  burgesses.  Thus 
the  constitution  was  in  essence  an  oligarchy  of  heads  of  clans, 
included  in  an  oligarchy  of  heads  of  houses — a compound 
oligarchy  which  became  unqualified  when  kingship  was  sup- 
pressed. And  here  should  be  emphasized  the  truth, 

sufficiently  obvious  and  yet  continually  ignored,  that  the 
Eoman  Ptepublic  which  remained  when  the  regal  power  ended, 
differed  utterly  in  nature  from  those  popular  governments 
with  which  it  has  been  commonly  classed.  The  heads  of 
clans,  of  whom  the  narrower  governing  body  was  formed,  as 
well  as  the  heads  of  families  who  formed  the  wider  governing- 
body,  were,  indeed,  jealous  of  one  another's  powers  ; and  in 
so  far  simulated  the  citizens  of  a free  state  who  individually 
maintain  their  equal  rights.  But  these  heads  severally 
exercised  unlimited  powers  over  the  members  of  their  house- 


380 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


holds  and  over  their  clusters  of  dependents.  A community 
of  which  the  component  groups  severally  retained  their  in- 
ternal autonomies,  with  the  result  that  the  rule  within  each 
remained  absolute,  was  nothing  but  an  aggregate  of  small 
despotisms.  Institutions  under  which  the  head  of  each 
group,  besides  owning  slaves,  had  such  supremacy  that  his 
wife  and  children,  including  even  married  sons,  had  no  more 
legal  rights  than  cattle,  and  were  at  his  mercy  in  life  and 
limb,  or  could  be  sold  into  slavery,  can  be  called  free  institu- 
tions only  by  those  who  confound  similarity  of  external  out- 
line with  similarity  of  internal  structure.* 

§ 48G.  The  formation  of  compound  political  heads  in  later 
times,  repeats  this  process  in  essentials  if  not  in  details.  In 
one  way  or  other,  the  result  arises  when  a common  need  for 
defence  compels  cooperation,  while  there  exists  no  means 
of  securing  cooperation  save  voluntary  agreement. 

Beginning  with  the  example  of  Venice,  we  notice  first  that 
the  region  occupied  by  the  ancient  Veneti,  included  the  exten- 
sive marshy  tract  formed  of  the  deposits  brought  down  by 
several  rivers  to  the  Adriatic — a tract  which,  in  Strabo’s  day, 
was  “ intersected  in  every  quarter  by  rivers,  streams,  and 
morasses  so  that  ie  Aquileia  and  Ravenna  were  then  cities 
in  the  marshes.”  Having  for  their  stronghold  this  region  full 
of  spots  accessible  only  to  inhabitants  who  knew  the  intri- 
cate ways  to  them,  the  Veneti  maintained  their  independence, 
spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  Romans  to  subdue  them,  until  the 
time  of  Csesar.  In  later  days,  kindred  results  were 

more  markedly  displayed  in  that  part  of  this  region  specially 
characterized  by  inaccessibility.  From  early  ages  the  islets, 
or  rather  mud-banks,  on  which  Venice  stands,  were  inhabited 

# I should  have  thought  it  needless  to  insist  on  so  obvious  a truth  had  it 
not  been  that  even  still  there  continues  this  identification  of  things  so  utterly 
different.  Within  these  few  years  has  been  published  a magazine-article  by 
a distinguished  historian,  describing  the  corruptions  of  the  Roman  Republic 
during  its  latter  days,  with  the  appended  moral  that  such  were,  and  are, 
likely  to  be  the  results  of  democratic  government ! 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


381 


by  a maritime  people.  Each  islet,  secure  in  the  midst  of  its 
tortuous  lagunes,  had  a popular  government  of  annually- 
elected  tribunes.  And  these  original  governments,  existing 
at  the  time  when  there  came  several  thousands  of  fugitives, 
driven  from  the  mainland  by  the  invading  Huns,  survived 
under  the  form  of  a rude  confederation.  As  we  have 
seen  happens  generally,  the  union  into  which  these  inde- 
pendent little  communities  were  forced  for  purposes  of  de- 
fence, was  disturbed  by  feuds ; and  it  was  only  under  the 
stress  of  opposition  to  aggressing  Lombards  on  the  one  side 
and  Sclavonic  pirates  on  the  other,  that  a general  assembly  of 
nobles,  clergy,  and  citizens,  appointed  a duke  or  doge  to  direct 
the  combined  forces  and  to  restrain  internal  factions  : being 
superior  to  the  tribunes  of  the  united  islets  and  subject  only 
to  this  body  which  appointed  him.  What  changes 

subsequently  took  place — how,  beyond  the  restraints  imposed 
by  the  general  assembly,  the  doge  was  presently  put  under 
the  check  of  two  elected  councillors,  and  on  important  occa- 
sions had  to  summon  the  principal  citizens — how  there  came 
afterwards  a representative  council,  which  underwent  from 
time  to  time  modifications — does  not  now  concern  us.  Here 
we  have  simply  to  note  that,  as  in  preceding  cases,  the  com- 
ponent groups  being  favourably  circumstanced  for  severally 
maintaining  their  independence  of  one  another,  the  impera- 
tive need  for  union  against  enemies  initiated  a rude  compound 
headship,  which,  notwithstanding  the  centralizing  effects  of 
war,  long  maintained  itself  in  one  or  other  form. 

On  finding  allied  results  among  men  of  a different  race  but 
occupying  a similar  region,  doubts  respecting  the  process  of 
causation  must  be  dissipated.  Over  the  area,  half  land,  half 
water,  formed  of  the  sediment  brought  down  by  the  Rhine  and 
adjacent  rivers,  there  early  existed  scattered  families.  Living 
on  isolated  sand-hills,  or  in  huts  raised  on  piles,  they  were  so 
secure  amid  their  creeks  and  mud-banks  and  marshes,  that 
they  remained  unsubdued  by  the  Romans.  Subsisting  at  first 
by  fishing,  with  here  and  there  such  small  agriculture  as  was 


382 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


possible,  and  eventually  becoming  maritime  and  commercial, 
these  people,  in  course  of  time,  rendered  their  land  more 
habitable  by  damming  out  the  sea;  and  they  long  enjoyed  a 
partial  if  not  complete  independence.  In  the  third  century, 
“the  low  countries  contained  the  only  free  people  of  the 
German  race.”  Especially  the  Frisians,  more  remote  than 
the  rest  from  invaders,  “ associated  themselves  with  the  tribes 
settled  on  the  limits  of  the  German  Ocean,  and  formed  with 
them  a connexion  celebrated  under  the  title  of  the  ‘ Saxon 
League/  ” Though  at  a later  time,  the  inhabitants  of  the  low 
countries  fell  under  Frankish  invaders ; yet  the  nature  of 
their  habited  continued  to  give  them  such  advantages  in 
resisting  foreign  control,  that  they  organized  themselves  after 
their  own  fashion  notwithstanding  interdicts.  “ From  the 
time  of  Charlemagne,  the  people  of  the  ancient  Menapia,  now 
become  a prosperous  commonwealth,  formed  political  associa- 
tions to  raise  a barrier  against  the  despotic  violence  of  the 
Franks,”  Meanwhile  the  Frisians,  who,  after  centuries  of 
resistance  to  the  Franks,  were  obliged  to  yield  and  render 
small  tributary  services,  retained  their  internal  autonomy. 
They  formed  “a  confederation  of  rude  but  self-governed 
maritime  provinces:”  each  of  these  seven  provinces  being 
divided  into  districts  severally  governed  by  elective  heads 
with  their  councils,  and  the  whole  being  under  a general 
elective  head  and  a general  council. 

Of  illustrations  which  modern  times  have  furnished,  must 
be  named  those  which  again  show  us  the  effects  of  a moun- 
tainous region.  The  most  notable  is,  of  course,  that  of 
Switzerland.  Surrounded  by  forests,  “among  marshes,  and 
rocks,  and  glaciers,  tribes  of  scattered  shepherds  had,  from  the 
early  times  of  the  Roman  conquest,  found  a land  of  refuge 
from  the  successive  invaders  of  the  rest  of  Helvetia.”  In  the 
labyrinths  of  the  Alps,  accessible  to  those  only  who  knew  the 
ways  to  them,  their  cattle  fed  unseen ; and  against  straggling- 
bands  of  marauders  who  might  discover  their  retreats,  they 
had  great  facilities  for  defence.  These  districts—which 


COMrOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


383 


eventually  became  the  cantons  of  Schweitz,  Uri,  and  Unter- 
walden,  originally  having  but  one  centre  of  meeting,  but 
eventually,  as  population  increased,  getting  three,  and  forming 
separate  political  organizations — long  preserved  complete  in- 
dependence. With  the  spread  of  feudal  subordination 
throughout  Europe,  they  became  nominally  subject  to  the 
Emperor ; but,  refusing  obedience  to  the  superiors  set  over 
them,  they  entered  into  a solemn  alliance,  renewed  from  time 
to  time,  to  resist  outer  enemies.  Details  of  their  history  need 
not  detain  us.  The  fact  of  moment  is  that  in  these  three 
cantons,  which  physically  favoured  in  so  great  a degree  the 
maintenance  of  independence  by  individuals  and  by  groups, 
the  people,  while  framing  for  themselves  free  governments, 
united  on  equal  terms  for  joint  defence.  And  it  was  these 
typical  “ Swiss,”  as  they  were  the  first  to  be  called,  whose 
union  formed  the  nucleus  of  the  larger  unions  which,  through 
varied  fortunes,  eventually  grewr  up.  Severally  independent 
as  were  the  cantons  composing  these  larger  unions,  there  at 
first  existed  feuds  among  them,  which  were  suspended  during 
times  of  joint  defence.  Only  gradually  did  the  league  pass 
from  temporary  and  unsettled  forms  to  a permanent  and 
settled  form.  Two  facts  of  significance  should  be 

added.  One  is  that,  at  a later  date,  a like  process  of  resist- 
ance, federation,  and  emancipation  from  feudal  tyranny, 
among  separate  communities  occupying  small  mountain 
valleys,  took  place  in  the  Grisons  and  in  the  Yalais:  regions 
which,  though  mountainous,  were  more  accessible  than  those 
of  the  Oberland  and  its  vicinity.  The  other  is  that  the  more 
level  cantons  neither  so  early  nor  so  completely  gained  their 
independence;  and,  further,  that  their  internal  constitutions 
were  less  free  in  form.  A marked  contrast  existed  between 
the  aristocratic  republics  of  Berne,  Lucerne,  Eribourg,  and 
Soleure,  and  the  pure  democracies  of  the  forest  cantons  and 
the  Grisons;  in  the  last  of  which  “ every  little  hamlet 
resting  in  an  Alpine  valley,  or  perched  on  mountain  crag, 
was  an  independent  community,  of  which  all  the  members 


384 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


were  absolutely  equal — entitled  to  vote  in  every  assembly, 
and  qualified  for  every  public  function.”  “ Each  hamlet  had 
its  own  laws,  jurisdiction,  and  privileges ; ” while  the  hamlets 
were  federated  into  communes,  the  communes  into  districts, 
and  the  districts  into  a league. 

Lastly,  with  the  case  of  Switzerland  may  be  associated  that 
of  San  Marino — a little  republic  which,  seated  in  the  Apen- 
nines, and  having  its  centre  on  a cliff  a thousand  feet  high, 
has  retained  its  independence  for  fifteen  centuries.  Here 
8,000  people  are  governed  by  a senate  of  60  and  by  captains 
elected  every  half-year  : assemblies  of  the  whole  people  being 
called  on  important  occasions.  There  is  a standing  army  of 
18  ; “ taxation  is  reduced  to  a mere  nothing ; ” and  officials  are 
paid  by  the  honour  of  serving. 

One  noteworthy  difference  between  the  compound  heads 
arising  under  physical  conditions  of  the  kinds  exemplified, 
must  not  be  overlooked — the  difference  between  the  oligarchic 
form  and  the  popular  form.  As  shown  at  the  outset  of  this 
section,  if  each  of  the  groups  united  by  militant  cooperation 
is  despotically  ruled — if  the  groups  are  severally  framed  on 
the  patriarchal  type,  or  are  severally  governed  by  men  of 
supposed  divine  descent ; then  the  compound  head  becomes 
one  in  which  the  people  at  large  have  no  share.  But  if,  as  in 
these  modern  cases,  patriarchal  authority  has  decayed ; or  if 
belief  in  divine  descent  of  rulers  has  been  undermined  by  a 
creed  at  variance  with  it ; or  if  peaceful  habits  have  weakened 
that  coercive  authority  which  war  ever  strengthens  ; then  the 
compound  head  is  no  longer  an  assembly  of  petty  despots. 
With  the  progress  of  these  changes  it  becomes  more  and  more 
a head  formed  of  those  who  exercise  power  not  by  right  of 
position  but  by  right  of  appointment. 

§ 487.  There  are  other  conditions  which  favour  the  rise  of 
compound  heads,  temporary  if  not  permanent — those,  namely, 
which  occur  at  the  dissolutions  of  preceding  organizations. 
Among  peoples  habituated  for  ages  to  personal  rule,  having 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


385 


sentiments  appropriate  to  it,  and  no  conception  of  anything 
else,  the  fall  of  one  despot  is  at  once  followed  by  the  rise  of 
another ; or,  if  a large  personally-governed  empire  collapses, 
its  parts  severally  generate  governments  for  themselves  of 
like  kind.  But  among  less  servile  peoples,  the  breaking  up 
of  political  systems  having  single  heads,  is  apt  to  be  followed 
by  the  establishment  of  others  having  compound  heads; 
especially  where  there  is  a simultaneous  separation  into  parts 
which  have  not  local  governments  of  stable  kinds.  Under 
such  circumstances  there  is  a return  to  the  primitive  state. 
The  pre-existing  regulative  system  having  fallen,  the  members 
of  the  community  are  left  without  any  controlling  power  save 
the  aggregate  will ; and  political  organization  having  to  com- 
mence afresh,  the  form  first  assumed  is  akin  to  that  which  we 
see  in  the  assembly  of  the  savage  horde,  or  in  the  modern 
public  meeting.  Whence  there  presently  results  the  rule  of 
a select  few  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  many. 

In  illustration  may  first  be  taken  the  rise  of  the  Italian 
republics.  When,  during  the  ninth  and  tenth  centuries,  the 
German  Emperors,  who  had  long  been  losing  their  power  to 
restrain  local  antagonisms  in  Italy  and  the  outrages  of 
wandering  robber  bands,  failed  more  than  ever  to  protect 
their  subject  communities,  and,  as  a simultaneous  result, 
exercised  diminished  control  over  them ; it  became  at  once 
necessary  and  practicable  for  the  Italian  towns  to  develop 
political  organizations  of  their  own.  Though  in  these  towns 
there  were  remnants  of  the  old  Roman  organization,  this  had 
obviously  become  effete  • for,  in  time  of  danger,  there  was  an 
assembling  of  “ citizens  at  the  sound  of  a great  bell,  to 
concert  together  the  means  for  their  common  defence.” 
Doubtless  on  such  occasions  were  marked  out  the  rudiments 
of  those  republican  constitutions  which  afterwards  arose. 
Though  it  is  alleged  that  the  German  Emperors  allowed  the 
towns  to  form  these  constitutions,  yet  we  may  reasonably 
conclude,  rather,  that  having  no  care  further  than  to  get  their 
tribute,  they  made  no  efforts  to  prevent  the  towns  from 


386 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


forming  them.  And  though  Sismondi  says  of  the  towns- 
people— “ ils  chercherent  h se  constituer  sur  le  modele  de  la 
republique  romaine yet  we  may  question  whether,  in  those 
dark  days,  the  people  knew  enough  of  Roman  institutions  to 
be  influenced  by  their  knowledge.  With  more  probability 
may  we  infer  that  “this  meeting  of  all  the  men  of  the 
state  capable  of  bearing  arms  ...  in  the  great  square/’ 
originally  called  to  take  measures  for  repelling  aggressors — a 
meeting  which  must,  at  the  very  outset,  have  been  swayed 
by  a group  of  dominant  citizens  and  must  have  chosen 
leaders,  was  itself  the  republican  government  in  its  incipient 
state.  Meetings  of  this  kind,  first  held  on  occasions  of 
emergency,  would  gradually  come  into  use  for  deciding  all 
important  public  questions.  Repetition  would  bring  greater 
regularity  in  the  modes  of  procedure,  and  greater  definiteness 
in  the  divisions  formed ; ending  in  compound  political  heads, 
presided  over  by  elected  chiefs.  And  that  this  was  the  case 
in  those  early  stages  of  which  there  remain  but  vague 
accounts,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  a similar,  though  some- 
what more  definite,  process  afterwards  occurred  at  Florence, 
wThen  the  usurping  nobles  were  overthrown.  Records  tell  us 
that  in  1250  “ the  citizens  assembled  at  the  same  moment  in 
the  square  of  Santa  Croce  ; they  divided  themselves  into  fifty 
groups,  of  which  each  group  chose  a captain,  and  thus 
formed  companies  of  militia : a council  of  these  officers  was 
the  first-born  authority  of  this  newly  revived  republic.’’ 
Clearly,  that  sovereignty  of  the  people  which,  for  a time, 
characterized  these  small  governments,  would  inevitably  arise 
if  the  political  form  grew  out  of  the  original  public  meeting ; 
while  it  would  be  unlikely  to  have  arisen  had  the  political 
form  been  artificially  devised  by  a limited  class. 

That  this  interpretation  harmonizes  with  the  facts  which 
modern  times  have  furnished,  scarcely  needs  pointing  out. 
On  an  immensely  larger  scale  and  in  ways  variously  modified, 
here  by  the  slow  collapse  of  an  old  regime  and  there  by  com- 
bination for  war,  the  rise  of  the  first  French  Republic  and  of 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


387 


the  American  Republic  have  similarly  shown  us  this  tendency 
towards  resumption  of  the  primitive  form  of  political  organi- 
zation, when  a decayed  or  otherwise  incapable  government 
collapses.  Obscured  by  complicating  circumstances  and 
special  incidents  as  these  transformations  were,  we  may 
recognize  in  them  the  play  of  the  same  general  causes. 

§ 488.  In  the  last  chapter  we  saw  that,  as  conditions  deter- 
mine, the  first  element  of  the  tri-une  political  structure  may 
be  differentiated  from  the  second  in  various  degrees : begin- 
ning with  the  warrior-chief,  slightly  predominant  over  other 
warriors,  and  ending  with  the  divine  and  absolute  king 
widely  distinguished  from  the  select  few  next  to  him.  By 
the  foregoing  examples  we  are  shown  that  the  second  element 
is,  as  conditions  determine,  variously  differentiated  from  the 
third:  being  at  the  one  extreme  qualitatively  distinguished 
in  a high  degree  and  divided  from  it  by  an  impassable  barrier, 
and  at  the  other  extreme  almost  merged  into  it. 

Here  we  are  introduced  to  the  truth  next  to  be  dealt  with ; 
that  not  only  do  conditions  determine  the  various  forms  which 
compound  heads  assume,  but  that  conditions  determine  the 
various  changes  they  undergo.  There  are  two  leading  kinds 
of  such  changes — those  through  which  the  compound  head 
passes  towards  a less  popular  form,  and  those  through  which 
it  passes  towards  a more  popular  form.  We  will  glance  at 
them  in  this  order. 

Progressive  narrowing  of  the  compound  head  is  one  of  the 
concomitants  of  continued  military  activity.  Setting  out 
with  the  case  of  Sparta,  the  constitution  of  which  in  its  early 
form  differed  but  little  from  that  which  the  Iliad  shows 
us  existed  among  the  Homeric  Greeks,  we  first  see  the 
tendency  towards  concentration  of  power,  in  the  regula- 
tion, made  a century  after  Lykurgus,  that  “ in  case  the  people 
decided  crookedly,  the  senate  with  the  kings  should  reverse 
their  decisions and  then  we  see  that  later,  in  consequence 
of  the  gravitation  of  property  into  fewer  hands,  “ the  number 
8 


388 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


of  qualified  citizens  went  on  continually  diminishing : 99  the 
implication  being  not  only  a relatively-increased  power  of  the 
oligarchy,  but,  probably,  a growing  supremacy  of  the  wealthier 
members  within  the  oligarchy  itself.  Turning  to  the  case  of 
Rome,  ever  militant,  we  find  that  in  course  of  time  inequali- 
ties increased  to  the  extent  that  the  senate  became  "an 
order  of  lords,  filling  up  its  ranks  by  hereditary  succession, 
and  exercising  collegiate  misrule.”  Moreover,  “ out  of  the  evil 
of  oligarchy  there  emerged  the  still  worse  evil  of  usurpation 
of  power  by  particular  families.”  In  the  Italian  Republics, 
again,  perpetually  at  war  one  with  another,  there  resulted  a 
kindred  narrowing  of  the  governing  body.  The  nobility, 
deserting  their  castles,  began  to  direct  “ the  municipal  govern- 
ment of  the  cities,  which  consequently,  during  this  period  of 
the  Republics,  fell  chiefly  into  the  hands  of  the  superior  fami- 
lies.” Then  at  a later  stage,  when  industrial  progress  had 
generated  wealthy  commercial  classes,  these,  competing  with 
the  nobles  for  power,  and  finally  displacing  them,  repeated 
within  their  respective  bodies  this  same  process.  The  richer 
gilds  deprived  the  poorer  of  their  shares  in  the  choice  of  the 
ruling  agencies;  the  privileged  class  was  continually  dimi- 
nished by  disqualifying  regulations ; and  newly  risen  families 
were  excluded  by  those  of  long  standing.  So  that,  as  Sis- 
mondi  points  out,  those  of  the  numerous  Italian  Republics 
which  remained  nominally  such  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  were,  like  “ Sienna  and  Lucca,  each  governed  by  a 
single  caste  of  citizens  : . . . had  no  longer  popular  govern- 
ments.” A kindred  result  occurred  among  the  Dutch. 
During  the  wars  of  the  Flemish  cities  with  the  nobles  and 
with  one  another,  the  relatively  popular  governments  of  the 
towns  were  narrowed.  The  greater  gilds  excluded  the  lesser 
from  the  ruling  body  ; and  their  members,  “ clothed  in  the 
municipal  purple  . . . ruled  with  the  power  of  an  aristo- 
cracy . . . the  local  government  was  often  an  oligarchy, 
while  the  spirit  of  the  burghers  was  peculiarly  democratic.” 
And  with  these  illustrations  may  be  joined  that  furnished  by 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


389 


those  Swiss  cantons  which,  physically  characterized  in  ways 
less  favourable  than  the  others  to  personal  independence, 
were  at  the  same  time  given  to  wars,  offensive  as  well  as 
defensive.  Berne,  Lucerne,  Fribourg,  Soleure,  acquired  politi- 
cal constitutions  in  large  measure  oligarchic  ; and  in  “ Berne, 
where  the  nobles  had  always  been  in  the  ascendant,  the  entire 
administration  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a few  families, 
with  whom  it  had  become  hereditary.” 

We  have  next  to  note  as  a cause  of  progressive  modification 
in  compound  heads,  that,  like  simple  heads,  they  are  apt  to 
be  subordinated  by  their  administrative  agents.  The  earliest 
case  to  be  named  is  one  in  which  this  effect  is  exemplified 
along  with  the  last — the  case  of  Sparta.  Originally  appointed 
by  the  kings  to  perform  prescribed  duties,  the  ephors  first 
made  the  kings  subordinate,  and  eventually  subordinated  the 
senate ; so  that  they  became  substantially  the  rulers.  From 
this  we  may  pass  to  the  instance  supplied  by  Venice,  where 
power,  once  exercised  by  the  people,  gradually  lapsed  into 
the  hands  of  an  executive  body,  the  members  of  which, 
habitually  re-elected,  and  at  death  replaced  by  their  children, 
became  an  aristocracy,  whence  there  eventually  grew  the 
council  of  ten,  who  were,  like  the  Spartan  ephors,  “ charged 
to  guard  the  security  of  the  state  with  a power  higher  than 
the  law;”  and  who  thus,  “ restrained  by  no  rule,”  constituted 
the  actual  government.  Through  its  many  revolutions  and 
changes  of  constitution,  Florence  exhibited  like  tendencies. 
The  appointed  administrators,  now  signoria,  now  priors, 
became  able,  during  their  terms  of  office,  to  effect  their 
private  ends  even  to  the  extent  of  suspending  the  constitu- 
tion : getting  the  forced  assent  of  the  assembled  people,  who 
were  surrounded  by  armed  men.  And  then,  eventually,  the 
head  executive  agent,  nominally  re-elected  from  time  to  time 
but  practically  permanent,  became,  in  the  person  of  Cosmo  de’ 
Medici,  the  founder  of  an  inherited  headship. 

But  the  liability  of  the  compound  political  head  to  become 
subject  to  its  civil  agents,  is  far  less  than  its  liability  to 


390 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


become  subject  to  its  military  agents.  From  the  earliest 
times  this  liability  has  been  exemplified  and  commented 
upon ; and,  familiar  though  it  is,  I must  here  illustrate  and 
emphasize  it,  because  it  directly  bears  on  one  of  the  cardinal 
truths  of  political  theory.  Setting  out  with  the  Greeks,  we 
observe  that  the  tyrants,  by  whom  oligarchies  were  so 
often  overthrown,  had  armed  forces  at  their  disposal.  Either 
the  tyrant  was  “ the  executive  magistrate,  upon  whom  the 
oligarchy  themselves  had  devolved  important  administrative 
powers or  he  was  a demagogue,  who  pleaded  the  alleged 
interests  of  the  community,  “ in  order  to  surround  ” himself 
“ with  armed  defenders  : ” soldiers  being  in  either  case  the 
agents  of  his  usurpation.  And  then,  in  Rome,  we  see  the  like 
done  by  the  successful  general.  As  Macchiavelli  remarks — 

“ For  the  further  abroad  they  [the  generals]  carried  their  arms,  the 
more  necessary  such  prolongations  [of  their  commissions]  appeared,  and 
the  more  common  they  became  ; hence  it  arose,  in  the  first  place,  that 
but  a few  of  their  Citizens  could  be  employed  in  the  command  of  armies, 
and  consequently  few  were  capable  of  acquiring  any  considerable  degree 
of  experience  or  reputation  ; and  in  the  next,  that  when  a Commander 
in  chief  was  continued  for  a long  time  in  that  post,  he  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  corrupting  his  army  to  such  a degree  that  the  Soldiers  entirely 
threw  off  their  obedience  to  the  Senate,  and  acknowledged  no  authority 
but  his.  To  this  it  was  owing  that  Sylla  and  Marius  found  means 
to  debauch  their  armies  and  make  them  fight  against  their  country ; 
and  that  Julius  Csesar  was  enabled  to  make  himself  absolute  in  Rome.” 

The  Italian  Republics,  again,  furnish  many  illustrations.  By 
the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century,  those  of  Lombardy 
“ all  submitted  themselves  to  the  military  power  of  some 
nobles  to  whom  they  had  entrusted  the  command  of  their 
militias,  and  thus  all  lost  their  liberty.”  Later  times  and 
nearer  regions  yield  instances.  At  home,  Cromwell  showed 
how  the  successful  general  tends  to  become  autocrat.  In  the 
Netherlands  the  same  thing  was  exemplified  by  the  Van 
Arteveldes,  father  and  son,  and  again  by  Maurice  of  Nassau ; 
and,  but  for  form's  sake,  it  would  be  needless  to  name  the  case 
of  Napoleon.  It  should  be  added  that  not  only  by  command 
of  armed  forces  is  the  military  chief  enabled  to  seize  on 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


391 


supreme  power;  but  acquired  popularity,  especially  in  a 
militant  nation,  places  him  in  a position  which  makes  it 
relatively  easy  to  do  this.  Neither  their  own  experience  nor 
the  experiences  of  other  nations  throughout  the  past,  pre- 
vented the  French  from  lately  making  Marshal  Macmahon 
executive  head  ; and  even  the  Americans,  in  more  than  once 
choosing  General  Grant  for  President,  proved  that,  predomi- 
nantly industrial  though  their  society  is,  militant  activity 
promptly  caused  an  incipient  change  towards  the  militant 
type,  of  which  an  essential  trait  is  the  union  of  civil  headship 
with  military  headship. 

From  the  influences  which  narrow  compound  political 
headships,  or  change  them  into  single  ones,  let  us  pass  to  the 
influences  which  widen  them.  The  case  of  Athens  is,  of 
course,  the  first  to  be  considered.  To  understand  this  we 
must  remember  that  up  to  the  time  of  Solon,  democratic 
government  did  not  exist  in  Greece.  The  only  actual  forms 
were  the  oligarchic  and  the  despotic ; and  in  those  early  days, 
before  political  speculation  began,  it  is  unlikely  that  there 
was  recognized  in  theory,  a social  form  entirely  unknown  in 
practice.  We  have,  therefore,  to  exclude  the  notion  that 
popular  government  arose  in  Athens  under  the  guidance  of 
any  preconceived  idea.  As  having  the  same  implication 
should  be  added  the  fact  that  (Athens  being  governed  by  an 
oligarchy  at  the  time)  the  Solonian  legislation  served  but  to 
qualify  and  broaden  the  oligarchy  and  remove  crying  in- 
justices. In  seeking  the  causes  of  change  which 

worked  through  Solon,  and  also  made  practicable  the  re-orga- 
nization he  initiated,  we  shall  find  them  to  lie  in  the  direct  and 
indirect  influences  of  trade.  Grote  comments  on  “ the  anxiety, 
both  of  Solon  and  of  Drako,  to  enforce  among  their  fellow- 
citizens  industrious  and  self-maintaining  habits : ” a proof 
that,  even  before  Solon’s  time,  there  was  in  Attica  little  or  no 
reprobation  of  “ sedentary  industry,  which  in  most  other  parts 
of  Greece  was  regarded  as  comparatively  dishonourable.” 
Moreover,  Solon  was  himself  in  early  life  a trader ; and  his 


392 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


legislation  “ provided  for  traders  and  artizans  a new  home  at 
Athens,  giving  the  first  encouragement  to  that  numerous 
town-population,  both  in  the  city  and  in  the  Peiraeus,  which 
we  find  actually  residing  there  in  the  succeeding  century  ” 
The  immigrants  who  flocked  into  Attica  because  of  its  greater 
security,  Solon  was  anxious  to  turn  rather  to  manufacturing 
industry  than  to  cultivation  of  a soil  naturally  poor  ; and  one 
result  was  “ a departure  from  the  primitive  temper  of  Atti- 
cism, which  tended  both  to  cantonal  residence  and  rural  occu- 
pation ; ” while  another  result  was  to  increase  the  number  of 
people  who  stood  outside  those  gentile  and  phratric  divisions, 
which  were  concomitants  of  the  patriarchal  type  and  of  per- 
sonal rule.  And  then  the  constitutional  changes  made  by 
Solon  were  in  leading  respects  towards  industrial  organiza- 
tion. The  introduction  of  a property-qualification  for  classes, 
instead  of  a birth-qualification,  diminished  the  rigidity  of  the 
political  form  ; since  aquirement  of  wealth  by  industry,  or 
otherwise,  made  possible  an  admission  into  the  oligarchy,  or 
among  others  of  the  privileged.  By  forbidding  self-enslave- 
ment of  the  debtor,  and  by  emancipating  those  who  had  been 
self-enslaved,  his  laws  added  largely  to  the  enfranchised  class 
as  distinguished  from  the  slave-class.  Otherwise  regarded, 
this  change,  leaving  equitable  contracts  untouched,  prevented 
those  inequitable  contracts  under  which,  by  a lien  on  himself, 
a man  gave  more  than  an  equivalent  for  the  sum  he  borrowed. 
And  with  a decreasing  number  of  cases  in  which  there  existed 
the  relation  of  master  and  slave,  went  an  increasing  number 
of  cases  in  which  benefits  were  exchanged  under  agreement. 
The  odium  attaching  to  that  lending  at  interest  which  ended 
in  slavery  of  the  debtor,  having  disappeared,  legitimate  lending 
became  general  and  unopposed ; the  rate  of  interest  was  free ; 
and  accumulated  capital  was  made  available.  Then,  as  co- 
operating cause,  and  as  ever-increasing  consequence,  came  the 
growth  of  a population  favourably  circumstanced  for  acting 
in  concert  Urban  people  who,  daily  in  contact,  gather  one 
another’s  ideas  and  feelings,  and  who,  by  quickly-diffused 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS.  393 

intelligence  are  rapidly  assembled,  can  cooperate  far  more 
readily  than  people  scattered  through  rural  districts.  With 
all  which  direct  and  indirect  results  of  industrial  develop- 
ment, must  be  joined  the  ultimate  result  on  character,  pro- 
duced by  daily  fulfilling  and  enforcing  contracts — a discipline 
which,  while  requiring  each  man  to  recognize  the  claims  of 
others,  also  requires  him  to  maintain  his  own.  In  Solon 
himself  this  attitude  which  joins  assertion  of  personal  rights 
with  respect  for  the  rights  of  others,  was  well  exemplified ; 
since,  when  his  influence  was  great  he  refused  to  become  a 
despot,  though  pressed  to  do  so,  and  in  his  latter  days  he 
resisted  at  the  risk  of  death  the  establishment  of  a despo- 
tism. In  various  w^ays,  then,  increasing  industrial 

activity  tended  to  widen  the  original  oligarchic  structure. 
And  though  these  effects  of  industrialism,  joined  with  subse- 
quently-accumulated effects,  were  for  a long  time  held  in 
check  by  the  usurping  Peisistratidse,  yet,  being  ready  to  show 
themselves  when,  some  time  after  the  expulsion  of  these 
tyrants,  there  came  the  Kleisthenian  revolution,  they  were 
doubtless  instrumental  in  then  initiating  the  popular  form  of 
government. 

Though  not  in  so  great  a degree,  yet  in  some  degree,  the 
same  causes  operated  in  liberalizing  the  Eoman  oligarchy. 
Eome  “ was  indebted  for  the  commencement  of  its  import- 
ance to  international  commerce;”  and,  as  Mommsen  points 
out,  “ the  distinction  between  Eome  and  the  mass  of  the 
other  Latin  towns,  must  certainly  be  traced  back  to  its  com- 
mercial position,  and  to  the  type  of  character  produced  by 
that  position  . . . Eome  was  the  emporium  of  the  Latin 
districts.”  Moreover,  as  in  Athens,  though  doubtless  to  a 
smaller  extent,  trade  brought  an  increasing  settlement  of 
strangers,  to  whom  rights  were  given,  and  who,  joined  with 
emancipated  slaves  and  with  clients,  formed  an  industrial 
population,  the  eventual  inclusion  of  which  in  the  burgess- 
body  caused  that  widening  of  the  constitution  effected  by 
Servius  Tullius. 


39  4 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTION’S. 


The  Italian  Republics  of  later  days  again  show  us,  in  nume- 
rous cases,  this  connexion  between  trading  activities  and  a 
freer  form  of  rule.  The  towns  were  industrial  centres. 

“The  merchants  of  Genoa,  Pisa,  Florence,  and  Venice  supplied 
Europe  with  the  products  of  the  Mediterranean  and  of  the  East : the 
bankers  of  Lombardy  instructed  the  world  in  the  mysteries  of  finance, 
and  foreign  exchanges : Italian  artificers  taught  the  workmen  of  other 
countries  the  highest  skill  in  the  manufactures  of  steel,  iron,  bronze, 
silk,  glass,  porcelain,  and  jewelry.  Italian  shops,  with  their  dazzling 
array  of  luxuries,  excited  the  admiration  and  envy  of  foreigners  from 
less  favoured  lands.” 

Then,  on  looking  into  their  histories,  we  find  that  industrial 
gilds  were  the  bases  of  their  political  organizations ; that  the 
upper  mercantile  classes  became  the  rulers,  in  some  cases 
excluding  the  nobles ; and  that  while  external  wars  and  in- 
ternal feuds  tended  continually  to  revive  narrower,  or  more 
personal,  forms  of  rule,  rebellions  of  the  industrial  citizens 
occasionally  happening,  tended  to  re-establish  popular  rule. 

When  we  join  with  these  the  like  general  connexions  that 
arose  in  the  Netherlands  and  in  the  Hanse  towns — when  we 
remember  the  liberalization  of  our  own  political  institutions 
which  has  gone  along  with  growing  industrialism — when  we 
observe  that  the  towns  more  than  the  country,  and  the  great 
industrial  centres  more  than  the  small  ones,  have  given  the 
impulses  to  these  changes;  it  becomes  unquestionable  that 
while  by  increase  of  militant  activities  compound  headships 
are  narrowed,  they  are  widened  in  proportion  as  industrial 
activities  become  predominant. 

§ 489.  In  common  with  the  results  reached  in  preceding 
chapters,  the  results  above  reached  show  that  types  of  poli- 
tical organization  are  not  matters  of  deliberate  choice.  It  is 
common  to  speak  of  a society  as  though  it  had,  once  upon  a 
time,  decided  on  the  form  of  government  which  thereafter 
existed  in  it.  Even  Mr.  Grote,  in  his  comparison  between  the 
institutions  of  ancient  Greece  and  those  of  mediaeval  Europe 
(vol.  iii.  pp.  10 — 12),  tacitly  implies  that  conceptions  of  the 


COMPOUND  POLITICAL  HEADS. 


395 


advantages  or  disadvantages  of  this  or  that  arrangement,  fur- 
nished motives  for  establishing  or  maintaining  it.  But,  as 
gathered  together  in  the  foregoing  sections,  the  facts  show 
that  as  with  the  genesis  of  simple  political  heads,  so  with 
the  genesis  of  compound  political  heads,  conditions  and  not 
intentions  determine. 

Recognizing  the  truth  that  independence  of  character  is  a 
factor,  but  ascribing  this  independence  of  character  to  the 
continued  existence  of  a race  in  a habitat  which  facilitates 
evasion  of  control,  we  saw  that  with  such  a nature  so  con- 
ditioned, cooperation  in  war  causes  the  union  on  equal  terms 
of  groups  whose  heads  are  joined  to  form  a directive  council. 
And  according  as  the  component  groups  are  governed  more 
or  less  autocratically,  the  directive  council  is  more  or  less 
oligarchic.  We  have  seen  that  in  localities  differing  so 
widely  as  do  mountain  regions,  marshes  or  mud  islands,  and 
jungles,  men  of  different  races  have  developed  political  heads 
of  this  compound  kind.  And  on  observing  that  the  localities, 
otherwise  so  unlike,  are  alike  in  being  severally  made  up  of 
parts  difficult  of  access,  we  cannot  question  that  to  this  is 
mainly  due  the  governmental  form  under  which  their  in- 
habitants unite. 

Besides  the  compound  heads  which  are  thus  indigenous  in 
places  favouring  them,  there  are  other  compound  heads  which 
arise  after  the  break-up  of  preceding  political  organizations. 
Especially  apt  are  they  so  to  arise  where  the  people,  not 
scattered  through  a wide  district  but  concentrated  in  a town, 
can  easily  assemble  bodily.  Control  of  every  kind  having 
disappeared,  it  happens  in  such  cases  that  the  aggregate  will 
has  free  play,  and  there  establishes  itself  for  a time  that 
relatively-popular  form  with  which  all  government  begins ; 
but,  regularly  or  irregularly,  a superior  few  become  differen- 
tiated from  the  many ; and  of  predominant  men  some  one  is 
made,  directly  or  indirectly,  most  predominant. 

Compound  heads  habitually  become,  in  course  of  time, 
either  narrower  or  wider.  They  are  narrowed  by  militancy, 


396 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


which  tends  ever  to  concentrate  directive  power  in  fewer 
hands,  and,  if  continued,  almost  certainly  changes  them  into 
simple  heads.  Conversely,  they  are  widened  by  industrialism. 
This,  by  gathering  together  aliens  detached  from  the  restraints 
imposed  by  patriarchal,  feudal,  or  other  such  organizations ; 
by  increasing  the  number  of  those  to  be  coerced  in  compa- 
rison with  the  number  of  those  who  have  to  coerce  them ; by 
placing  this  larger  number  in  conditions  favouring  concerted 
action ; by  substituting  for  daily-enforced  obedience,  the  daily 
fulfilment  of  voluntary  obligations  and  daily  maintenance  of 
claims ; tends  ever  towards  equalization  of  citizenship. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 

§ 490.  Two  parts  of  the  primitive  tri-une  political  struc- 
ture have,  in  the  last  two  chapters,  been  dealt  with  sepa- 
rately ; or,  to  speak  strictly,  the  first  has  been  considered  as 
independent  of  the  second,  and  again,  the  second  as  inde- 
pendent of  the  first : incidentally  noting  its  relations  to  the 
third.  Here  we  have  to  treat  of  the  two  in  combination. 
Instead  of  observing  how  from  the  chief,  little  above  the  rest, 
there  is,  under  certain  conditions,  evolved  the  absolute  ruler, 
entirely  subordinating  the  select  few  and  the  many;  and 
instead  of  observing  how,  under  other  conditions,  the  select 
few  become  an  oligarchy  tolerating  no  supreme  man,  and 
keeping  the  multitude  in  subjection ; we  have  now  to  observe 
the  cases  in  which  there  is  established  a cooperation  between 
the  first  and  the  second. 

After  chieftainship  has  become  settled,  the  chief  continues 
to  have  sundry  reasons  for  acting  in  concert  with  his  head 
men.  It  is  needful  to  conciliate  them ; it  is  needful  to  get 
their  advice  and  willing  assistance ; and,  in  serious  matters, 
it  is  desirable  to  divide  responsibility  with  them.  Hence  the 
prevalence  of  consultative  assemblies.  In  Samoa,  “ the  chief 
of  the  village  and  the  heads  of  families  formed,  and  still  form, 
the  legislative  body  of  the  place”  Among  the  Fulahs, 
“ before  undertaking  anything  important  or  declaring  w7ar, 
the  king  [of  Babbali]  is  obliged  to  summon  a council  of 


398 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Mallams  and  the  principal  people.”  Of  the  Mandingo  states 
we  read  that  “ in  all  affairs  of  importance,  the  king  calls  an 
assembly  of  the  principal  men,  or  elders,  by  whose  counsels 
he  is  directed.”  And  such  cases  might  be  multiplied  inde- 
finitely. 

That  we  may  understand  the  essential  nature  of  this  in- 
stitution, and  that  we  may  see  why,  as  it  evolves,  it  assumes 
the  characters  it  does,  we  must  once  more  go  back  to  the 
beginning. 


§ 491.  Evidence  coming  from  many  peoples  in  all  times, 
shows  that  the  consultative  body  is,  at  the  outset,  nothing 
more  than  a council  of  war.  It  is  in  the  open-air  meeting  of 
armed  men,  that  the  cluster  of  leaders  is  first  seen  performing 
that  deliberative  function  in  respect  of  military  measures, 
which  is  subsequently  extended  toother  measures.  Long  after 
its  deliberations  have  become  more  general  in  their  scope, 
there  survive  traces  of  this  origin. 

In  Rome,  where  the  king  was  above  all  things  the  general, 
and  where  the  senators,  as  the  heads  of  clans,  were,  at  the 
outset,  war-chiefs,  the  burgesses  were  habitually,  when  called 
together,  addressed  as  “ spear-men  : ” there  survived  the  title 
which  was  naturally  given  to  them  when  they  were  present 
as  listeners  at  war-councils.  So  during  later  days  in  Italy, 
when  the  small  republics  grew  up.  Describing  the  assem- 
bling of  “ citizens  at  the  sound  of  a great  bell,  to  concert 
together  the  means  of  their  common  defence,”  Sismondi  says 
— “ this  meeting  of  all  the  men  of  the  State  capable  of  bearing 
arms,  was  called  a Parliament.”  Concerning  the  gatherings 
of  the  Poles  in  early  times  we  read : — “ Such  assemblies, 
before  the  establishment  of  a senate,  and  while  the  kings  were 
limited  in  power,  were  of  frequent  occurrence,  and  . . . were 
attended  by  all  who  bore  arms;”  and  at  a later  stage  “ the 
comitici  paludata , which  assembled  during  an  interregnum, 
consisted  of  the  whole  body  of  nobles,  who  attended  in  the 
open  plain,  aimed  and  equipped  as  if  for  battle  ” In  Hungary, 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 


399 


too,  up  to  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  “les 
eisgneurs,  a cheval  et  armes  de  pied  en  cap  comme  pour  alter 
en  guerre,  se  reunissaient  dans  le  champ  de  courses  de  Rakos, 
pres  de  Pesth,  et  la  discutaient  en  plain  air  les  affaires  pub- 
liques .”  Again,  “ the  supreme  political  council  is  the  nation 
in  arms,”  says  Stubbs  of  the  primitive  Germans ; and  though, 
during  the  Merovingian  period,  the  popular  power  declined, 
yet  “ under  Chlodovech  and  his  immediate  successors,  the 
People  assembled  in  arms  had  a real  participation  in  the 
resolutions  of  the  king.”  Even  now  the  custom  of  going 
weapon  in  hand,  is  maintained  where  the  primitive  political 
form  remains.  “ To  the  present  day,”  writes  M.  de  Laveleye, 
“ the  inhabitants  of  the  outer  Rhodes  of  Appenzell  come  to 
the  general  assembly,  one  year  at  Hundwyl  and  the  other  at 
Trogen,  each  carrying  in  his  hand  an  old  sword  or  ancient 
rapier  of  the  middle  ages.”  Mr.  Freeman,  too,  was  witness 
to  a like  annual  gathering  in  Uri,  where  those  who  joined  to 
elect  their  chief  magistrate,  and  to  deliberate,  came  armed. 

It  may,  indeed,  be  alleged  that  in  early  unsettled  times, 
the  carrying  of  weapons  by  each  freeman  was  needful  for 
personal  safety ; especially  when  a place  of  meeting  far  from 
his  home  had  to  be  reached.  But  there  is  evidence  that 
though  this  continued  to  be  a cause  for  going  prepared  for 
fight,  it  was  not  by  itself  a sufficient  cause.  While  we  read 
of  the  ancient  Scandinavians  that  “all  freemen  capable  of 
bearing  arms  were  admitted”  to  the  national  assembly,  and 
that  after  his  election  from  “ among  the  descendants  of  the 
sacred  stock,”  “ the  new  sovereign  was  elevated  amidst  the 
clash  of  arms  and  the  shouts  of  the  multitude we  also  read 
that  “ nobody,  not  even  the  king  or  his  champions,  were 
allowed  to  come  armed  to  the  assizes.” 

Even  apart  from  such  evidence,  there  is  ample  reason  to 
infer  that  the  council  of  war  originated  the  consultative  body, 
and  gave  outlines  to  its  structure.  Defence  against  enemies 
was  everywhere  the  need  which  first  prompted  joint  deli- 
beration. For  other  purposes  individual  action,  or  action  in 


400 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


small  parties,  might  suffice;  but  for  insuring  the  general 
safety,  combined  action  of  the  whole  horde  or  tribe  was  ne- 
cessary ; and  to  secure  this  combined  action  must  have  been 
the  primary  motive  for  a political  gathering.  Moreover, 
certain  constitutional  traits  of  early  assemblies  among  the 
civilized,  point  to  councils  of  war  as  having  initiated  them. 
If  we  ask  what  must  happen  when  the  predominant  men  of 
a tribe  debate  military  measures  in  presence  of  the  rest,  the 
reply  is  that  in  the  absence  of  a developed  political  organiza- 
tion, the  assent  of  the  rest  to  any  decision  must  be  obtained 
before  it  can  be  acted  upon ; and  the  like  must  at  first  happen 
when  many  tribes  are  united.  As  Gibbon  says  of  the  diet  of 
the  Tartars,  formed  of  chiefs  of  tribes  and  their  martial 
trains,  “ the  monarch  wdio  reviews  the  strength,  must  consult 
the  inclination,  of  an  armed  people.”  Even  if,  under  such 
conditions,  the  ruling  few  could  impose  their  will  on  the 
many,  armed  like  themselves,  it  would  be  impolitic  to  do  so  ; 
since  success  in  war  would  be  endangered  by  dissension. 
Hence  would  arise  the  usage  of  putting  to  the  surrounding 
warriors,  the  question  whether  they  agreed  to  the  course 
which  the  council  of  chiefs  had  decided  upon.  There  would 
grow  up  a form  such  as  that  which  had  become  established 
for  governmental  purposes  at  large  among  the  early  Eomans, 
whose  king  or  general,  asked  the  assembled  burgesses  or 
“ spear-men,”  whether  they  approved  of  the  proposal  made ; 
or  like  that  ascribed  by  Tacitus  to  the  primitive  Germans, 
who,  now  with  murmurs  and  now  with  brandishing  of  spears, 
rejected  or  accepted  the  suggestions  of  their  leaders.  More- 
over, there  would  naturally  come  just  that  restricted  expres- 
sion of  popular  opinion  which  we  are  told  of.  The  Boman 
burgesses  were  allowed  to  answer  only  “yes”  or  “no”  to  any 
question  put  to  them ; and  this  is  exactly  the  simple  answer 
which  the  chief  and  head  warriors  would  require  from  the 
rest  of  the  warriors  when  war  or  peace  were  the  alternatives. 
A kindred  restriction  existed  among  the  Spartans.  In  addi- 
tion to  the  senate  and  co-ordinate  kings,  there  was  “an 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 


401 


Ekklesia  or  public  assembly  of  citizens,  convened  for  the 
purpose  of  approving  or  rejecting  propositions  submitted  to 
them,  with  little  or  no  liberty  of  discussion’" — a usage  quite 
explicable  if  we  assume  that  in  the  Homeric  agora,  from 
which  the  Spartan  constitution  descended,  the  assembled 
chiefs  had  to  gain  the  assent  of  their  followers  before  im- 
portant actions  could  be  undertaken. 

Concluding,  then,  that  war  originates  political  deliberation, 
and  that  the  select  body  which  especially  carries  on  this  deli- 
beration first  takes  shape  on  occasions  when  the  public  safety 
has  to  be  provided  for,  we  shall  be  prepared  the  better  to 
understand  the  traits  which  characterize  the  consultative 
body  in  later  stages  of  its  development. 

§ 492.  Already  we  have  seen  that  at  the  outset  the  militant 
class  was  of  necessity  the  land-owning  class.  In  the  savage 
tribe  there  are  no  owners  of  the  tract  occupied,  save  the  warriors 
who  use  it  in  common  for  hunting.  During  pastoral  life 
good  regions  for  cattle-feeding  are  jointly  held  against  intru- 
ders by  force  of  arms.  And  where  the  agricultural  stage  has 
been  reached,  communal  possession,  family  possession,  and 
individual  possession,  have  from  time  to  time  to  be  defended 
by  the  sword.  Hence,  as  wras  shown,  the  fact  that  in  early 
stages  the  bearing  of  arms  and  the  holding  of  land  habitually 
go  together. 

While,  as  among  hunting  peoples,  land  continues  to  be  held 
in  common,  the  contrasts  which  arise  between  the  few  and 
the  many,  are  such  only  as  result  from  actual  or  supposed 
personal  superiority  of  one  kind  or  other.  It  is  true  that,  as 
pointed  out,  differences  of  wealth,  in  the  shape  of  chattels, 
boats,  slaves,  &c.,  cause  some  class-differentiations ; and  that 
thus,  even  before  private  land-owning  begins,  quantity  of 
possessions  aids  in  distinguishing  the  governing  from  the 
governed.  When  the  pastoral  state  is  arrived  at  and  the 
patriarchal  type  established,  such  ownership  as  there  is  vests 
in  the  eldest  son  of  the  eldest ; or  if,  as  Sir  Henry  Maine 


402 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


says,  he  is  to  be  considered  as  trustee  for  the  group,  still  his 
trusteeship  joins  with  his  military  headship  in  giving  him 
supremacy.  At  a later  stage,  when  lands  come  to  be  occupied 
by  settled  families  and  communities,  and  land-ownership 
gains  definiteness,  this  union  of  traits  in  each  head  of  a group 
becomes  more  marked ; and,  as  was  shown  when  treating  of 
the  differentiation  of  nobles  from  freemen,  several  influences 
conspire  to  give  the  eldest  son  of  the  eldest,  superiority  in 
extent  of  landed  possessions,  as  well  as  in  degree  of  power. 
Nor  is  this  fundamental  relation  changed  when  a nobility  of 
service  replaces  a nobility  of  birth,  and  when,  as  presently 
happens,  the  adherents  of  a conquering  invader  are  rewarded 
by  portions  of  the  subjugated  territory.  Throughout,  the 
tendency  continues  to  be  for  the  class  of  military  superiors 
to  be  identical  with  the  class  of  large  landowners. 

It  follows,  then,  that  beginning  with  the  assemblage  of 
armed  freemen,  all  of  them  holding  land  individually  or  in 
groups,  whose  council  of  leaders,  deliberating  in  presence  of 
the  rest,  are  distinguished  only  as  being  the  most  capable 
warriors,  there  will,  through  frequent  wars  and  progressing 
consolidations,  be  produced  a state  in  which  this  council  of 
leaders  becomes  further  distinguished  by  the  greater  estates, 
and  consequent  greater  powers,  of  its  members.  Becom- 
ing more  and  more  contrasted  with  the  armed  freemen  at 
large,  the  consultative  body  will  tend  gradually  to  subor- 
dinate it,  and,  eventually  separating  itself,  will  acquire  inde- 
pendence. 

The  growth  of  this  temporary  council  of  war  in  which  the 
king,  acting  as  general,  summons  to  give  their  advice  the 
leaders  of  his  forces,  into  the  permanent  consultative  body  in 
which  the  king,  in  his  capacity  of  ruler,  presides  over  the 
deliberations  of  the  same  men  on  public  affairs  at  large,  is 
exemplified  in  various  parts  of  the  world.  The  consultative 
body  is  everywhere  composed  of  minor  chiefs,  or  heads  of 
clans,  or  feudal  lords,  in  whom  the  military  and  civil  rule  of 
local  groups  is  habitually  joined  with  wide  possessions ; and 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 


403 


the  examples  frequently  exhibit  this  composition  on  both  a 
small  and  a large  scale — both  locally  and  generally.  A 

rude  and  early  form  of  the  arrangement  is  shown  in  Africa. 
"We  read  of  the  Kaffirs  that  “ every  chief  chooses  from  among 
his  most  wealthy  subjects  five  or  six,  who  act  as  counsellors 
to  him.  . . the  great  council  of  the  king  is  composed  of 
the  chiefs  of  particular  kraals.”  A Eechuana  tribe  “ gene- 
rally includes  a number  of  towns  or  villages,  each  having  its 
distinct  head,  under  whom  there  are  a number  of  subordinate 
chiefs,”  who  “ all  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  the  principal 
one.  His  power,  though  very  great  and  in  some  instances 
despotic,  is  nevertheless  controlled  by  the  minor  chiefs,  who 
in  their  piclios  or  pitshos , their  parliament,  or  public  meetings, 
use  the  greatest  plainness  of  speech  in  exposing  what  they 
consider  culpable  or  lax  in  his  government.”  Of  the  Wan- 
yamwezi,  Burton  says  that  the  Sultan  is  “ surrounded  by  a 
council  varying  from  two  to  a score  of  chiefs  and  elders.  . . 

His  authority  is  circumscribed  by  a rude  balance  of  power  ; 
the  chiefs  around  him  can  probably  bring  as  many  warriors 
into  the  field  as  he  can.”  Similarly  in  Ashantee.  “ The 
caboceers  and  captains  . . . claim  to  be  heard  on  all  ques- 
tions relating  to  war  and  foreign  politics.  Such  matters 
are  considered  in  a general  assembly ; and  the  king  sometimes 
finds  it  prudent  to  yield  to  the  views  and  urgent  representa- 
tions of  the  majority.”  From  the  ancient  American 

states,  too,  instances  may  be  cited.  In  Mexico  “general 
assemblies  were  presided  over  by  the  king  every  eighty  days. 
They  came  to  these  meetings  from  all  parts  of  the  country ; ” 
and  then  we  read,  further,  that  the  highest  rank  of  nobility, 
the  Teuctli,  “took  precedence  of  all  others  in  the  senate, 
both  in  the  order  of  sitting  and  voting  : ” showing  what  was 
the  composition  of  the  senate.  It  was  so,  too,  with  the 
Central  Americans  of  Yera  Paz.  “ Though  the  supreme  rule 
was  exercised  by  a king,  there  were  inferior  lords  as  his 
coadjutors,  who  mostly  were  titled  lords  and  vassals  ; they 
formed  the  royal  council  . . . and  joined  the  king  in  his 


404 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


palace  as  often  as  they  were  called  upon.”  Turning  to 

Europe,  mention  may  first  be  made  of  ancient  Poland. 
Originally  formed  of  independent  tribes,  “ each  governed  by 
its  own  hniaz , or  judge,  whom  age  or  reputed  wisdom  had 
raised  to  that  dignity,”  and  each  led  in  war  by  a temporary 
voivod  or  captain,  these  tribes  had,  in  the  course  of  that  com- 
pounding and  re-compounding  which  wars  produced,  differen- 
tiated into  classes  of  nobles  and  serfs,  over  whom  w~as  an 
elected  king.  Of  the  organization  which  existed  before  the 
king  lost  his  power,  we  are  told  that — 

“ Though  each  of  these  palatines,  bishops,  and  barons,  could  thus  advise 
his  sovereign,  the  formation  of  a regular  senate  was  slow,  and  com- 
pleted only  when  experience  had  proved  its  utility.  At  first,  the  only 
subjects  on  which  the  monarch  deliberated  with  his  barons  related  to 
war : what  he  originally  granted  through  courtesy,  or  through  diffidence 
in  himself,  or  with  a view  to  lessen  his  responsibility  in  case  of  failure, 
they  eventually  claimed  as  a right.” 

So,  too,  during  internal  wars  and  wars  against  Pome,  the 
primitive  Germanic  tribes,  once  semi-nomadic  and  but  slightly 
organized,  passing  through  the  stage  in  which  armed  chiefs 
and  freemen  periodically  assembled  for  deliberations  on  war 
and  other  matters,  evolved  a kindred  structure.  In  Carolin- 
gian  days  the  great  political  gathering  of  the  year  was 
simultaneous  with  the  great  military  levy ; and  the  military 
element  entered  into  the  foreground.  Armed  service  being 
the  essential  thing,  and  questions  of  peace  and  war  being 
habitually  dominant,  it  resulted  that  all  freemen,  while  under 
obligation  to  attend,  had  also  a right  to  be  present  at  the 
assembly  and  to  listen  to  the  deliberations.  And  then  con- 
cerning a later  period,  as  Hallam  writes — 

" In  all  the  German  principalities  a form  of  limited  monarchy  pre- 
vailed, reflecting,  on  a reduced  scale,  the  general  constitution  of  the 
Empire.  As  the  Emperors  shared  their  legislative  sovereignty  with  the 
diet,  so  all  the  princes  who  belonged  to  that  assembly  had  their  own 
provincial  states,  composed  of  their  feudal  vassals  and  of  their  mediate 
towns  within  their  territory.” 

In  France,  too,  provincial  estates  existed  for  local  rule;  and 
there  were  consultative  assemblies  of  general  scope.  Thus 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 


405 


an  " ordinance  of  1228,  respecting  the  heretics  of  Languedoc, 
is  rendered  with  the  advice  of  our  great  men  and  prud- 
hommes ; ” and  one  “ of  1246,  concerning  levies  and  re- 
demptions in  Anjou  and  Maine,”  says  that  “ having  called 
around  us,  at  Orleans,  the  barons  and  great  men  of  the  said 
counties,  and  having  held  attentive  counsel  with  them,”  &c. 

To  meet  the  probable  criticism  that  no  notice  has  been 
taken  of  the  ecclesiastics  usually  included  in  the  consultative 
body,  it  is  needful  to  point  out  that  due  recognition  of  them 
does  not  involve  any  essential  change  in  the  account  above 
given.  Though  modern  usages  lead  us  to  think  of  the  priest- 
class  as  distinct  from  the  warrior-class,  yet  it  was  not  origi- 
nally distinct.  With  the  truth  that  habitually  in  militant 
societies,  the  king  is  at  once  commander-in-chief  and  high 
priest,  carrying  out  in  both  capacities  the  dictates  of  his  deity, 
we  may  join  the  truth  that  the  subordinate  priest  is  usually  a 
direct  or  indirect  aider  of  the  wars  thus  supposed  to  be 
divinely  prompted.  In  illustration  of  the  one  truth  may  be 
cited  the  fact  that  before  going  to  war,  Eadama,  king  of 
Madagascar,  “ acting  as  priest  as  well  as  general,  sacrificed  a 
cock  and  a heifer,  and  offered  a prayer  at  the  tomb  of  Andria- 
Masina,  his  most  renowned  ancestor.”  And  in  illustration  of 
the  other  truth  may  be  cited  the  fact  that  among  the  Hebrews, 
whose  priests  accompanied  the  army  to  battle,  we  read  of 
Samuel,  a priest  from  childhood  upwards,  as  conveying  to 
Saul  God’s  command  to  “ smite  Amalek,”  and  as  having 
himself  hewed  Agag  in  pieces.  More  or  less  active  partici- 
pation in  war  by  priests  we  everywhere  find  in  savage  and 
semi-civilized  societies ; as  among  the  Dakotas,  Mundrucus, 
Abipones,  Khonds,  whose  priests  decide  on  the  time  for  war, 
or  give  the  signal  for  attack ; as  among  the  Tahitians,  whose 
priests  “ bore  arms,  and  marched  with  the  warriors  to  battle ; ” 
as  among  the  Mexicans,  whose  priests,  the  habitual  instiga- 
tors of  wars,  accompanied  their  idols  in  front  of  the  army,  and 
“ sacrificed  the  first  taken  prisoners  at  once ; ” as  among  the 
ancient  Egyptians,  of  whom  we  read  that  “ the  priest  of  a 


406 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


god  was  often  a military  or  naval  commander;’  And  the 
naturalness  of  the  connexion  thus  common  in  rude  and  in 
ancient  societies,  is  shown  by  its  revival  in  later  societies, 
notwithstanding  an  adverse  creed.  After  Christianity  had 
passed  out  of  its  early  non-political  stage  into  the  stage  in 
which  it  became  a State-religion,  its  priests,  during  actively 
militant  periods,  re-acquired  the  primitive  militant  character. 
“ By  the  middle  of  the  eighth  century  [in  France],  regular 
military  service  on  the  part  of  the  clergy  was  already  fully 
developed.”  In  the  early  feudal  period,  bishops,  abbots,  and 
priors,  became  feudal  lords,  with  all  the  powers  and  responsi- 
bilities attaching  to  their  positions.  They  had  bodies  of  troops 
in  their  pay,  took  towns  and  fortresses,  sustained  sieges,  led 
or  sent  troops  in  aid  of  kings.  And  Orderic,  in  1094, 
describes  the  priests  as  leading  their  parishioners  to  battle, 
and  the  abbots  their  vassals.  Though  in  recent  times  Church 
dignitaries  do  not  actively  participate  in  war,  yet  their 
advisatory  function  respecting  it — often  prompting  rather 
than  restraining — has  not  even  now  ceased ; as  among  our- 
selves was  lately  shown  in  the  vote  of  the  bishops,  wTho,  with 
one  exception,  approved  the  invasion  of  Afghanistan. 

That  the  consultative  body  habitually  includes  ecclesiastics, 
does  not,  therefore,  conflict  with  the  statement  that,  beginning 
as  a war-council,  it  grows  into  a permanent  assembly  of  minor 
military  heads. 

§ 493.  Under  a different  form,  there  is  here  partially 
repeated  what  was  set  forth  when  treating  of  oligarchies : the 
difference  arising  from  inclusion  of  the  king  as  a co-operative 
factor.  Moreover,  much  that  was  before  said  respecting  the 
influence  of  war  in  narrowing  oligarchies,  applies  to  that 
narrowing  of  the  primitive  consultative  assembly  by  which 
there  is  produced  from  it  a body  of  land-owning  military 
nobles.  But  the  consolidation  of  small  societies  into  large 
ones  effected  by  war,  brings  other  influences  which  join  in 
working  this  result. 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 


407 


In  early  assemblies  of  men  similarly  armed,  it  must  happen 
that  though  the  inferior  many  will  recognize  that  authority 
of  the  superior  few  which  is  due  to  their  leaderships  as 
warriors,  to  their  clan-headships,  or  to  their  supposed  super- 
natural descent ; yet  the  superior  few,  conscious  that  they  are 
no  match  for  the  inferior  many  in  a physical  contest,  will  be 
obliged  to  treat  their  opinions  with  some  deference — will  not 
be  able  completely  to  monopolize  power.  But  as  fast  as 
there  progresses  that  class-differentiation  before  described,  and 
as  fast  as  the  superior  few  acquire  better  weapons  than  the 
inferior  many,  or,  as  among  various  ancient  peoples,  have  war- 
chariots,  or,  as  in  mediaeval  Europe,  wear  coats  of  mail  or  plate 
armour  and  are  mounted  on  horses,  they, feeling  their  advantage, 
will  pay  less  respect  to  the  opinions  of  the  many.  And  the 
habit  of  ignoring  their  opinions  will  be  followed  by  the  habit  of 
regarding  any  expression  of  their  opinions  as  an  impertinence. 

This  usurpation  will  be  furthered  by  the  growth  of  those 
bodies  of  armed  dependents  with  which  the  superior  few 
surround  themselves — mercenaries  and  others,  who,  while 
unconnected  with  the  common  freemen,  are  bound  by  fealty 
to  their  employers.  These,  too,  with  better  weapons  and 
defensive  appliances  than  the  mass,  will  be  led  to  regard 
them  with  contempt  and  to  aid  in  subordinating  them. 

Not  only  on  the  occasions  of  general  assemblies,  but  from 
day  to  day  in  their  respective  localities,  the  increasing  powers 
of  the  nobles  thus  caused,  will  tend  to  reduce  the  freemen 
more  and  more  to  the  rank  of  dependents ; and  especially  so 
where  the  military  service  of  such  nobles  to  their  king  is 
dispensed  with  or  allowed  to  lapse,  as  happened  in  Denmark 
about  the  thirteenth  century. 

“ The  free  peasantry,  who  were  originally  independent  proprietors  of 
the  soil,  and  had  an  equal  suffrage  with  the  highest  nobles  in  the  land, 
were  thus  compelled  to  seek  the  protection  of  these  powerful  lords,  and 
to  come  under  vassalage  to  some  neighbouring  Herremand,  or  bishop, 
or  convent.  The  provincial  diets,  or  Lands-Ting,  were  gradually  super- 
seded by  the  general  national  parliament  of  the  Dannehnf  Adel  Ting, 
or  Herredag  ; the  latter  being  exclusively  composed  of  the  princes,  pre- 


408 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


lates,  and  other  great  men  of  the  kingdom.  ...  As  the  influence 
of  the  peasantry  had  declined,  whilst  the  burghers  did  not  yet  enjoy 
any  share  of  political  power,  the  constitution,  although  disjointed  and 
fluctuating,  was  rapidly  approaching  the  form  it  ultimately  assumed  ; 
that  of  a feudal  and  sacerdotal  oligarchy.” 

Another  influence  conducing  to  loss  of  power  by  the  armed 
freemen,  and  gain  of  power  by  the  armed  chiefs  who  form 
the  consultative  body,  follows  that  widening  of  the  occupied 
area  which  goes  along  with  the  compounding  and  re-com- 
pounding of  societies.  As  Eichter  remarks  of  the  Mero- 
vingian period,  “ under  Chlodovecli  and  his  immediate 
successors,  the  people  assembled  in  arms  had  a real  participa- 
tion in  the  resolutions  of  the  king.  But,  with  the  increasing 
size  of  the  kingdom,  the  meeting  of  the  entire  people  became 
impossible  : ” only  those  who  lived  near  the  appointed  places 
could  attend.  Two  facts,  one  already  given  under  another 
head,  may  be  named  as  illustrating  this  effect.  “The 
greatest  national  council  in  Madagascar  is  an  assembly  of  the 
people  of  the  capital,  and  the  heads  of  the  provinces,  districts, 
towns,  villages,”  &c. ; and,  speaking  of  the  English  Witenage- 
mot,  Mr.  Freeman  says — “ sometimes  we  find  direct  mention 
of  the  presence  of  large  and  popular  classes  of  men,  as  the 
citizens  of  London  or  Winchester  : ” the  implication  in  both 
cases  being  that  all  freemen  had  a right  to  attend,  but  that 
only  those  on  the  spot  could  avail  themselves  of  the  right. 
This  cause  for  restriction,  which  is  commented  upon  by  Mr. 
Freeman,  operates  in  several  ways.  When  a kingdom  has 
become  large,  the  actual  cost  of  a journey  to  the  place  fixed 
for  the  meeting,  is  too  great  to  be  borne  by  a man  who  owns 
but  a few  acres.  Further,  there  is  the  indirect  cost  entailed 
by  loss  of  time,  which,  to  one  who  personally  labours  or 
superintends  labour,  is  serious.  Again,  there  is  the  danger, 
which  in  turbulent  times  is  considerable,  save  to  those  who  go 
with  bodies  of  armed  retainers.  And,  obviously,  these  deter- 
rent causes  must  tell  where,  for  the  above  reasons,  the  incen- 
tives to  attend  have  become  small. 

Yet  one  more  cause  co-operates.  An  assembly  of  all  the 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 


409 


armed  freemen  included  in  a large  society,  could  they  be 
gathered,  would  be  prevented  from  taking  active  part  in  the 
proceedings,  both  by  its  size  and  by  its  lack  of  organization. 
A multitude  consisting  of  those  who  have  come  from  scattered 
points  over  a wide  country,  mostly  unknown  to  one  another, 
unable  to  hold  previous  communication  and  therefore  without 
plans,  as  well  as  without  leaders,  cannot  cope  with  the  rela- 
tively small  but  well-organized  body  of  those  having  common 
ideas  and  acting  in  concert. 

Nor  should  there  be  omitted  the  fact  that  when  the  causes 
above  named  have  conspired  to  decrease  the  attendance  of 
men  in  arms  who  live  afar  off,  and  when  there  grows  up  the 
usage  of  summoning  the  more  important  among  them,  it 
naturally  happens  that  in  course  of  time  the  receipt  of  a 
summons  becomes  the  authority  for  attendance,  and  the 
absence  of  a summons  becomes  equivalent  to  the  absence  of 
a right  to  attend. 

Here,  then,  are  several  influences,  all  directly  or  indirectly 
consequent  upon  war,  which  join  in  differentiating  the  con- 
sultative body  from  the  mass  of  armed  freemen  out  of  which 
it  arises. 

§ 494.  Given  the  ruler,  and  given  the  consultative  body 
thus  arising,  there  remains  to  ask — What  are  the  causes  of 
change  in  their  relative  powers  ? Always  between  these  two 
authorities  there  must  be  a struggle — each  trying  to  subordi- 
nate the  other.  Under  what  conditions,  then,  is  the  king 
enabled  to  over-ride  the  consultative  body  ? and  under  what 
conditions  is  the  consultative  body  enabled  to  over-ride  the 
king  ? 

A belief  in  the  superhuman  nature  of  the  king  gives  him 
an  immense  advantage  in  the  contest  for  supremacy.  If  he  is 
god-descended,  open  opposition  to  his  will  by  his  advisers  is 
out  of  the  question  ; and  members  of  his  council,  singly  or  in 
combination,  dare  do  no  more  than  tender  humble  advice. 
Moreover,  if  the  line  of  succession  is  so  settled  that  there 


410 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


rarely  or  never  occur  occasions  on  which  the  king  has  to  be 
elected  by  the  chief  men,  so  that  they  have  no  opportunity  of 
choosing  one  who  will  conform  to  their  wishes,  they  are 
further  debarred  from  maintaining  any  authority.  Hence, 
habitually,  we  do  not  find  consultative  bodies  having  an  inde- 
pendent status  in  the  despotically-governed  countries  of  the 
East,  ancient  or  modern.  Though  we  read  of  the  Egyptian 
king  that  “ he  appears  to  have  been  attended  in  war  by  the 
council  of  the  thirty,  composed  apparently  of  privy  councillors, 
scribes,  and  high  officers  of  state,”  the  implication  is  that  the 
members  of  this  council  were  functionaries,  having  such 
powers  only  as  the  king  deputed  to  them.  Similarly  in 
Babylonia  and  Assyria,  attendants  and  others  who  performed 
the  duties  of  ministers  and  advisers  to  the  god-descended 
rulers,  did  not  form  established  assemblies  for  deliberative 
purposes.  In  ancient  Persia,  too,  there  was  a like  condition. 
The  hereditary  king,  almost  sacred  and  bearing  extravagant 
titles,  though  subject  to  some  check  from  princes  and  nobles 
of  royal  blood  who  were  leaders  of  the  army,  and  who  ten- 
dered advice,  was  not  under  the  restraint  of  a constituted 
body  of  them.  Throughout  the  history  of  Japan  down  to  our 
own  time,  a kindred  state  of  things  existed.  The  Daimios 
were  required  to  reside  in  the  capital  during  prescribed  inter- 
vals, as  a precaution  against  insubordination ; but  they  were 
never,  while  there,  called  together  to  take  any  share  in  the 
government.  So  too  is  it  in  China.  We  are  told  that, 
“ although  there  is  nominally  no  deliberative  or  advisatory 
body  in  the  Chinese  government,  and  nothing  really  analo- 
gous to  a congress,  parliament,  or  tiers  etat,  still  necessity 
compels  the  emperor  to  consult  and  advise  with  some  of  his 
officers.”  Nor  does  Europe  fail  to  yield  us  evidence  of  like 
meaning.  I do  not  refer  only  to  the  case  of  Russia,  but 
more  especially  to  the  case  of  France  during  the  time 
when  monarchy  had  assumed  an  absolute  form.  In  the  age 
when  divines  like  Bossuet  taught  that  “ the  king  is  account- 
able to  no  one  . . . the  whole  state  is  in  him,  and  the  will 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 


411 


of  the  whole  people  is  contained  in  his  in  the  age  when 
the  king  (Louis  XIV.),  “ imbued  with  the  idea  of  his  omnipo- 
tence and  divine  mission/'  “ was  regarded  by  his  subjects  with 
adoration/'  he  “ had  extinguished  and  absorbed  even  the 
minutest  trace,  idea,  and  recollection  of  all  other  authority 
except  that  which  emanated  from  himself  alone/'  Along 
with  establishment  of  hereditary  succession  and  acquirement 
of  semi-divine  character,  such  power  of  the  other  estates  as 
existed  in  early  days  had  disappeared. 

Conversely,  there  are  cases  showing  that  where  the  king 
has  never  had,  or  does  not  preserve,  the  prestige  of  supposed 
descent  from  a god,  and  vThere  he  continues  to  be  elective, 
the  powder  of  the  consultative  body  is  apt  to  over-ride  the 
royal  power,  and  eventually  to  suppress  it.  The  first  to  be 
named  is  that  of  Borne.  Originally  “ the  king  convoked  the 
senate  wdien  he  pleased,  and  laid  before  it  his  questions ; no 
senator  might  declare  his  opinion  unasked ; still  less  might  the 
senate  meet  without  being  summoned."  But  here,  where  the 
king,  though  regarded  as  having  divine  approval  tvas  not  held 
to  be  of  divine  descent,  and  where,  though  usually  nominated 
by  a predecessor  he  was  sometimes  practically  elected  by  the 
senate,  and  always  submitted  to  the  form  of  popular  assent, 
the  consultative  body  presently  became  supreme.  “ The 
senate  had  in  course  of  time  been  converted  from  a corporation 
intended  merely  to  advise  the  magistrates,  into  a board  com- 
manding the  magistrates  and  self-governing."  Afterwards 
“ the  right  of  nominating  and  cancelling  senators  originally 
belonging  to  the  magistrates  was  withdrawn  from  them  /' 
and  finally,  “ the  irremovable  character  and  life-tenure  of  the 
members  of  the  ruling  order  who  obtained  seat  and  vote,  was 
definitely  consolidated:"  the  oligarchic  constitution  became 
pronounced.  The  history  of  Poland  yields  another  example. 
After  unions  of  simply-governed  tribes  had  produced  small 
states,  and  generated  a nobility ; and  after  these  small  states 
had  been  united  ; there  arose  a kingship.  At  first  elective,  as 
kingships  habitually  are,  this  continued  so — never  became 


412 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


hereditary.  On  the  occasion  of  each  election  out  of  the  royal 
clan,  there  was  an  opportunity  of  choosing  for  king  one  whose 
character  the  turbulent  nobles  thought  fittest  for  their  own 
purposes ; and  hence  it  resulted  that  the  power  of  the  king- 
ship  decayed.  Eventually — 

“ Of  the  three  orders  into  which  the  state  was  divided,  the  king,  though 
his  authority  had  been  anciently  despotic,  was  the  least  important.  His 
dignity  was  unaccompanied  with  power  ; he  was  merely  the  president 
of  the  senate,  and  the  chief  judge  of  the  republic.” 

And  then  there  is  the  instance  furnished  by  Scandinavia, 
already  named  in  another  relation.  Danish,  Norwegian,  and 
Swedish  kings  were  originally  elective ; and  though,  on  sundry 
occasions,  hereditary  succession  became  for  a time  the  usage, 
there  were  repeated  lapses  into  the  elective  form,  with  the 
result  that  predominance  was  gained  by  the  feudal  chieftains 
and  prelates  forming  the  consultative  body. 

§ 495.  The  second  element  in  the  tri-une  political  struc- 
ture is  thus,  like  the  first,  developed  by  militancy.  By  this 
the  ruler  is  eventually  separated  from  all  below  him ; and  by 
this  the  superior  few  are  gradually  integrated  into  a delibera- 
tive body,  separated  from  the  inferior  many. 

That  the  council  of  war,  formed  of  leading  warriors  who 
debate  in  presence  of  their  followers,  is  the  germ  out  of  which 
the  consultative  body  arises,  is  implied  by  the  survival  of 
usages  which  show  that  a political  gathering  is  originally  a 
gathering  of  armed  men.  In  harmony  with  this  implication 
are  such  facts  as  that  after  a comparatively  settled  state  has 
been  reached,  the  power  of  the  assembled  people  is  limited  to 
accepting  or  rejecting  the  proposals  made,  and  that  the  mem- 
bers of  the  consultative  body,  summoned  by  the  ruler,  who  is 
also  the  general,  give  their  opinions  only  wdien  invited  by  him 
to  do  so. 

Nor  do  we  lack  clues  to  the  process  by  which  the  primitive 
war-council  grows,  consolidates,  and  separates  itself.  Within 
the  >varrior  class,  which  is  also  the  land-owning  class,  war 


CONSULTATIVE  BODIES. 


413 


produces  increasing  differences  of  wealth  as  well  as  increas- 
ing differences  of  status ; so  that,  along  with  the  com- 
pounding and  re-compounding  of  groups,  brought  about 
by  war,  the  military  leaders  come  to  be  distinguished  as 
large  land-owners  and  local  rulers.  Hence  members  of  the 
consultative  body  become  contrasted  with  the  freemen  at 
large,  not  only  as  leading  warriors  are  contrasted  with  their 
followers,  but  still  more  as  men  of  wealth  and  authority. 

This  increasing  contrast  between  the  second  and  third 
elements  of  the  tri-une  political  structure,  ends  in  separation 
when,  in  course  of  time,  war  consolidates  large  territories. 
Armed  freemen  scattered  over  a wide  area  are  deterred  from 
attending  the  periodic  assemblies  by  cost  of  travel,  by  cost  of 
time,  by  danger,  and  also  by  the  experience  that  multitudes 
of  men  unprepared  and  unorganized,  are  helpless  in  presence 
of  an  organized  few,  better  armed  and  mounted,  and  with 
bands  of  retainers.  So  that  passing  through  a time  during 
which  only  the  armed  freemen  living  near  the  place  of  meet- 
ing attend,  there  comes  a time  when  even  these,  not  being 
summoned,  are  considered  as  having  no  right  to  attend ; and 
thus  the  consultative  body  becomes  completely  differentiated. 

Changes  in  the  relative  powers  of  the  ruler  and  the  con- 
sultative body  are  determined  by  obvious  causes.  If  the  king 
retains  or  acquires  the  repute  of  supernatural  descent  or 
authority,  and  the  law  of  hereditary  succession  is  so  settled 
as  to  exclude  election,  those  who  might  else  have  formed  a 
consultative  body  having  co-ordinate  power,  become  simply 
appointed  advisers.  But  if  the  king  has  not  the  prestige  of 
supposed  sacred  origin  or  commission,  the  consultative  body 
retains  power ; and  if  the  king  continues  to  be  elective,  it  is 
liable  to  become  an  oligarchy. 

Of  course  it  is  not  alleged  that  all  consultative  bodies  have 
been  generated  in  the  way  described,  or  are  constituted  in 
like  manner.  Societies  broken  up  by  wars  or  dissolved  by 
revolutions,  may  preserve  so  little  of  their  primitive  organiza- 
tions that  there  remain  no  classes  of  the  kinds  out  of  which 


414 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


such  consultative  bodies  as  those  described  arise.  Or,  as  we 
see  in  our  own  colonies,  societies  may  have  been  formed  in 
ways  which  have  not  fostered  classes  of  land-owning  militant 
chiefs,  and  therefore  do  not  furnish  the  elements  out  of  which 
consultative  bodies,  in  their  primitive  shapes,  are  composed. 
Under  conditions  of  these  kinds  the  assemblies  answering  to 
them,  so  far  as  may  be,  in  position  and  function,  arise  under 
the  influence  of  tradition  or  example  ; and  in  default  of  men 
of  the  original  kind  are  formed  of  others — generally,  how- 
ever, of  those  who  by  position,  seniority,  or  previous  official 
experience,  are  more  eminent  than  those  forming  popular 
assemblies.  It  is  only  to  what  may  be  called  normal  consulta- 
tive bodies  which  grow  up  during  that  compounding  and  re- 
compounding of  small  societies  into  larger  ones  which  war 
effects,  that  the  foregoing  account  applies ; and  the  senates, 
or  superior  chambers,  which  come  into  existence  under  later 
and  more  complex  conditions,  may  be  considered  as  homolo- 
gous to  them  in  function  and  composition  so  far  only  as  the 
new  conditions  permit. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 

§ 496.  Amid  the  varieties  and  complexities  of  political 
organization,  it  has  proved  not  impossible  to  discern  the  ways 
in  which  simple  political  heads  and  compound  political  heads 
are  evolved;  and  how,  under  certain  conditions,  the  two 
become  united  as  ruler  and  consultative  body.  But  to  see 
how  a representative  body  arises,  proves  to  be  more  difficult ; 
for  both  process  and  product  are  more  variable.  Less  specific 
results  must  content  us. 

As  hitherto,  so  again,  we  must  go  back  to  the  beginning  to 
take  up  the  clue.  Out  of  that  earliest  stage  of  the  savage 
horde  in  which  there  is  no  supremacy  beyond  that  of  the 
man  whose  strength,  or  courage,  or  cunning,  gives  him  pre- 
dominance, the  first  step  is  to  the  practice  of  election — - 
deliberate  choice  of  a leader  in  war.  About  the  conducting 
of  elections  in  rude  tribes,  travellers  say  little : probably  the 
methods  used  are  various.  But  we  have  accounts  of  elections 
as  they  were  made  by  European  peoples  during  early  times. 
In  ancient  Scandinavia,  the  chief  of  a province  chosen  by  the 
assembled  people,  was  thereupon  “ elevated  amidst  the  clash 
of  arms  and  the  shouts  of  the  multitude ; ” and  among  the 
ancient  Germans  he  was  raised  on  a shield,  as  also  was  the 
popularly-approved  Merovingian  king.  Recalling,  as  this 
ceremony  does,  the  chairing  of  a newly-elected  member  of 
parliament  up  to  recent  times ; and  reminding  us  that  origi- 
nally an  election  was  by  show  of  hands  ; we  are  taught  that 
the  choice  of  a representative  was  once  identical  with  the 


416 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


choice  of  a chief.  Our  House  of  Commons  had  its  roots  in 
local  gatherings  like  those  in  which  uncivilized  tribes  select 
head  warriors. 

Besides  conscious  selection  there  occurs  among  rude  peoples 
selection  by  lot.  The  Samoans,  for  instance,  by  spinning  a 
cocoa-nut,  which,  on  coming  to  rest,  points  to  one  of  the  sur- 
rounding persons,  thereby  single  him  out.  Early  historic 
races  supply  illustrations ; as  the  Hebrews  in  the  affair  of 
Saul  and  Jonathan,  and  as  the  Homeric  Greeks  when  fixing 
on  a champion  to  fight  with  Hector.  In  both  these  last  cases 
there  was  belief  in  supernatural  interference:  the  lot  was 
supposed  to  be  divinely  determined.  And  probably  at  the 
outset,  choice  by  lot  for  political  purposes  among  the  Athe- 
nians, and  for  military  purposes  among  the  Bomans,  as  also 
in  later  times  the  use  of  the  lot  for  choosing  deputies  in  some 
of  the  Italian  republics,  and  in  Spain  (as  in  Leon  during  the 
twelfth  century)  was  influenced  by  a kindred  belief ; though 
doubtless  the  desire  to  give  equal  chances  to  rich  and  poor,  or 
else  to  assign  without  dispute  a mission  which  was  onerous  or 
dangerous,  entered  into  the  motive  or  was  even  predominant. 
Here,  however,  the  fact  to  be  noted  is  that  this  mode  of 
choice  which  plays  a part  in  representation,  may  also  be 
traced  back  to  the  usages  of  primitive  peoples. 

So,  too,  we  find  foreshadowed  the  process  of  delegation. 
Groups  of  men  who  open  negociations,  or  who  make  their 
submission,  or  who  send  tribute,  habitually  appoint  certain 
of  their  number  to  act  for  them.  The  method  is,  indeed, 
necessitated ; since  a tribe  cannot  well  perform  such  actions 
bodily.  Whence,  too,  it  appears  that  the  sending  of  repre- 
sentatives is,  at  the  first  stage,  originated  by  causes  like  those 
which  re-originate  it  at  a later  stage.  Eor  as  the  will  of  the 
tribe,  readily  displayed  in  its  assemblies  to  its  own  members, 
cannot  be  thus  displayed  to  other  tribes,  but  must,  in  respect 
of  inter-tribal  matters  be  communicated  by  deputy ; so  in  a 
large  nation,  the  people  of  each  locality,  able  to  govern  them- 
selves locally,  but  unable  to  join  the  peoples  of  remote 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


417 


localities  in  deliberations  which  concern  them  all,  have  to 
send  one  or  more  persons  to  express  their  will.  Distance  in 
both  cases  changes  direct  utterance  of  the  popular  voice  into 
indirect  utterance. 

Before  observing  the  conditions  under  which  this  singling 
out  of  individuals  in  one  or  other  way  for  specified  duties, 
comes  to  be  used  in  the  formation  of  a representative  body, 
we  must  exclude  classes  of  cases  not  relevant  to  our  present 
inquiry.  Though  representation  as  ordinarily  conceived,  and 
as  here  to  be  dealt  with,  is  associated  with  a popular  form  of 
government,  yet  the  connexion  between  them  is  not  a neces- 
sary one.  In  some  places  and  times  representation  has  co- 
existed with  entire  exclusion  of  the  masses  from  power.  In 
Poland,  both  before  and  after  the  so-called  republican  form 
was  assumed,  the  central  diet,  in  addition  to  senators 
nominated  by  the  king,  was  composed  of  nobles  elected  in 
provincial  assemblies  of  nobles : the  people  at  large  being 
powerless  and  mostly  serfs.  In  Hungary,  too,  up  to  recent 
times,  the  privileged  class  which,  even  after  it  had  been 
greatly  enlarged  readied  only  “ one-twentieth  of  the  adult 
males,”  alone  formed  the  basis  of  representation.  “ A Hun- 
garian county  before  the  reforms  of  1848  might  be  called  a 
direct  aristocratical  republic : ” all  members  of  the  noble  class 
having  a right  to  attend  the  local  assembly  and  vote  in 
appointing  a representative  noble  to  the  general  diet;  but 
members  of  the  inferior  classes  having  no  shares  in  the 
government. 

Other  representative  bodies  than  those  of  an  exclusively 
aristocratic  kind,  must  be  named  as  not  falling  within  the 
scope  of  this  chapter.  As  Duruy  remarks — “ Antiquity  was 
not  as  ignorant  as  is  supposed  of  the  representative  sys- 
tem. . . . Each  Eoman  province  had  its  general  assem- 
blies. . . . Thus  the  Lycians  possessed  a true  legislative 
body  formed  by  the  deputies  of  their  twenty-three  towns.,, 
“This  assembly  had  even  executive  functions.”  And  Gaul, 
Spain,  all  the  eastern  provinces,  and  Greece,  had  like  assem- 


418 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


blies.  But,  little  as  is  known  of  them,  the  inference  is 
tolerably  safe  that  these  were  but  distantly  allied  in  genesis 
and  position  to  the  bodies  we  now  distinguish  as  representa- 
tive. Nor  are  we  concerned  with  those  senates  and  councils 
elected  by  different  divisions  of  a town-population  (such  as 
were  variously  formed  in  the  Italian  republics)  which  served 
simply  as  agents  whose  doings  were  subject  to  the  directly- 
expressed  approval  or  disapproval  of  the  assembled  citizens. 
Here  we  must  limit  ourselves  to  that  kind  of  representative 
body  which  arises  in  communities  occupying  areas  so  large 
that  their  members  are  obliged  to  exercise  by  deputy  such 
powers  as  they  possess  ; and,  further,  we  have  to  deal  exclu- 
sively with  cases  in  which  the  assembled  deputies  do  not 
replace  pre-existing  political  agencies  but  cooperate  witli 
them. 

It  will  be  well  to  set  out  by  observing,  more  distinctly 
than  we  have  hitherto  done,  what  part  of  the  primitive 
political  structure  it  is  from  which  the  representative  body, 
as  thus  conceived,  originates. 

§ 497.  Broadly,  this  question  is  tacitly  answered  by  the 
contents  of  preceding  chapters.  For  if,  on  occasions  of  public 
deliberation,  the  primitive  horde  spontaneously  divides  into 
the  inferior  many  and  the  superior  few,  among  whom  some  one 
is  most  influential ; and  if,  in  the  course  of  that  compounding 
and  re-compounding  of  groups  which  war  brings  about,  the 
recognized  war-chief  develops  into  the  king,  while  the  superior 
few  become  the  consultative  body  formed  of  minor  military 
leaders ; it  follows  that  any  third  co-ordinate  political  power 
must  be  either  the  mass  of  the  inferior  itself,  or  else  some 
agency  acting  on  its  behalf.  Truism  though  this  may  be 
called,  it  is  needful  here  to  set  it  down ; since,  before 
inquiring  under  what  circumstances  the  growth  of  a repre- 
sentative system  follows  the  growth  of  popular  power,  we 
have  to  recognize  the  relation  between  the  two. 

The  undistinguished  mass,  retaining  a latent  supremacy  in 


REPKESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


419 


simple  societies  not  yet  politically  organized,  though  it  is 
brought  under  restraint  as  fast  as  war  establishes  obedience, 
and  conquests  produce  class-differentiations,  tends,  when 
occasion  permits,  to  re-assert  itself.  The  sentiments  and 
beliefs,  organized  and  transmitted,  which,  during  certain 
stages  of  social  evolution,  lead  the  many  to  submit  to  the 
few,  come,  under  some  circumstances,  to  be  traversed  by  other 
sentiments  and  beliefs.  Passing  references  have  been  in 
several  places  made  to  these.  Here  we  must  consider  them 
seriatim  and  more  at  length. 

One  factor  in  the  development  of  the  patriarchal  group 
during  the  pastoral  stage,  was  shown  to  be  the  fostering  of 
subordination  to  its  head  by  war ; since,  continually,  there 
survived  the  groups  in  which  subordination  was  greatest. 
But  if  so,  the  implication  is  that,  conversely,  cessation  of 
war  tends  to  diminish  subordination.  Members  of  the  com- 
pound family,  originally  living  together  and  fighting  together, 
become  less  strongly  bound  in  proportion  as  they  have  less 
frequently  to  cooperate  for  joint  defence  under  their  head. 
Hence,  the  more  peaceful  the  state  the  more  independent 
become  the  multiplying  divisions  forming  the  gens,  the 
phratry,  and  the  tribe.  With  progress  of  industrial  life  arises 
greater  freedom  of  action — especially  among  the  distantly- 
related  members  of  the  group. 

So  must  it  be,  too,  in  a feudally-governed  assemblage. 
While  standing  quarrels  with  neighbours  are  ever  leading  to 
local  battles — while  bodies  of  men-at-arms  are  kept  ready, 
and  vassals  are  from  time  to  time  summoned  to  fight — 
while,  as  a concomitant  of  military  service,  acts  of  homage 
are  insisted  upon;  there  is  maintained  a regimental  sub- 
jection running  through  the  group.  But  as  fast  as  aggres- 
sions and  counter-aggressions  become  less  frequent,  the 
carrying  of  arms  becomes  less  needful;  there  is  less  occa- 
sion for  periodic  expressions  of  fealty;  and  there  is  an 
increase  of  daily  actions  performed  without  direction  of  a 
superior,  whence  a fostering  of  individuality  of  character. 


420 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


These  changes  are  furthered  by  the  decline  of  superstitious 
beliefs  concerning  the  natures  of  head  men,  general  and  local. 
As  before  shown,  the  ascription  of  superhuman  origin,  or 
supernatural  power,  to  the  king,  greatly  strengthens  his 
hands ; and  where  the  chiefs  of  component  groups  have  a 
sacredness  due  to  nearness  in  blood  to  the  semi-divine 
ancestor  worshipped  by  all,  or  are  members  of  an  invading, 
god-descended  race,  their  authority  over  dependents  is  largely 
enforced.  By  implication  then,  whatever  undermines  ancestor- 
worship,  and  the  system  of  beliefs  accompanying  it,  favours 
the  growth  of  popular  power.  Doubtless  the  spread  of 
Christianity  over  Europe,  by  diminishing  the  prestige  of 
governors,  major  and  minor,  prepared  the  way  for  greater 
independence  of  the  governed. 

These  causes  have  relatively  small  effects  where  the  people 
are  scattered.  In  rural  districts  the  authority  of  political 
superiors  is  weakened  with  comparative  slowness.  Even  after 
peace  has  become  habitual,  and  local  heads  have  lost  their 
semi-sacred  characters,  there  cling  to  them  awe-inspiring 
traditions  : they  are  not  of  ordinary  flesh  and  blood.  Wealth 
which,  through  long  ages,  distinguishes  the  nobleman  exclu- 
sively, gives  him  both  actual  power  and  the  power  arising 
from  display.  Fixed  literally  or  practically,  as  the  several 
grades  of  his  inferiors  are  during  days  when  locomotion  is 
difficult,  he  long  remains  for  them  the  solitary  sample  of  a 
great  man.  Others  are  only  known  by  hearsay ; he  is  known 
by  experience.  Inspection  is  easily  maintained  by  him  over 
dependent  and  sub-dependent  people ; and  the  disrespectful 
or  rebellious,  if  they  cannot  be  punished  overtly,  can  be 
deprived  of  occupation,  or  otherwise  so  hindered  in  their 
lives  that  they  must  submit  or  migrate.  Down  to  our  own 
day,  the  behaviour  of  peasants  and  farmers  to  the  squire,  is 
suggestive  of  the  strong  restraints  which  kept  rural  popula- 
tions in  semi-servile  states  after  primitive  controlling 
influences  had  died  away. 

Converse  effects  may  be  expected  under  converse  condi- 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


421 


/r 


tions;  namely,  where  large  numbers  become  closely  aggre- 
gated. Even  if  such  large  numbers  are  formed  of  groups 
severally  subordinate  to  heads  of  clans,  or  to  feudal  lords, 
sundry  influences  combine  to  diminish  subordination.  When 
there  are  present  in  the  same  place  many  superiors  to  whom 
respectively  their  dependents  owe  obedience,  these  superiors 
tend  to  dwarf  one  another.  The  power  of  no  one  is  so  im- 
posing if  there  are  daily  seen  others  who  make  like  displays. 
Further,  when  groups  of  dependents  are  mingled,  supervision 
cannot  be  so  well  maintained  by  their  heads.  And  this  which 
hinders  the  exercise  of  control,  facilitates  combination  among 
those  to  be  controlled : conspiracy  is  made  easier  and  detec- 
tion of  it  more  difficult.  Again,  jealous  of  one  another,  as 
these  heads  of  clustered  groups  are  likely  in  such  circum- 
stances to  be,  they  are  prompted  severally  to  strengthen 
themselves;  and  to  this  end,  competing  for  popularity,  are 
tempted  to  relax  the  restraints  over  their  inferiors  and  to 
give  protection  to  inferiors  ill-used  by  other  heads.  Still 
more  are  their  powers  undermined  when  the  assemblage 
includes  many  aliens.  As  before  implied,  this  above  all 
causes  favours  the  growth  of  popular  power.  In  proportion 
as  immigrants,  detached  from  the  gentile  or  feudal  divisions 
they  severally  belong  to,  become  numerous,  they  weaken  the 
structures  of  the  divisions  among  which  they  live.  Such 
organization  as  these  strangers  fall  into  is  certain  to  be  a 
looser  one;  and  their  influence  acts  as  a dissolvent  to  the 
surrounding  organizations. 

And  here  we  are  brought  back  to  the  truth  which  cannot 


be  too  much  insisted  upon,  that  growth  of  popular  power  is 
in  all  ways  associated  with  trading  activities.  For  only  by 
trading  activities  can  many  people  be  brought  to  live  in  close 
contact.  Physical  necessities  maintain  the  wide  dispersion 
of  a rural  population ; while  physical  necessities  impel  the 
gathering  together  of  those  who  are  commercially  occupied. 
Evidence  from  various  countries  and  times  shows  that  periodic 
gatherings  for  religious  rites,  or  other  public  purposes,  furnish 


422 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


opportunities  for  buying  and  selling,  which  are  habitually 
utilized ; and  this  connexion  between  the  assembling  of  many 
people  and  the  exchanging  of  commodities,  which  first  shows 
itself  at  intervals,  becomes  a permanent  connexion  where 
many  people  become  permanently  assembled — where  a town 
grows  up  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a temple,  or  around  a 
stronghold,  or  in  a place  favoured  by  local  circumstances  for 
some  manufacture. 

Industrial  development  further  aids  popular  emancipation 
by  generating  an  order  of  men  whose  power,  derived  from 
their  wealth,  competes  with,  and  begins  in  some  cases  to 
exceed,  the  power  of  those  who  previously  were  alone  wealthy 
— the  men  of  rank.  While  this  initiates  a conflict  which 
diminishes  the  influence  previously  exercised  by  patriarchal 
or  feudal  heads  only,  it  also  initiates  a milder  form  of  sub- 
ordination. Eising,  as  the  rich  trader  habitually  does  in  early 
times,  from  the  non-privileged  class,  the  relation  between 
him  and  those  under  him  is  one  from  which  there  is  excluded 
the  idea  of  personal  subjection.  In  proportion  as  the  indus- 
trial activities  grow  predominant,  they  make  familiar  a con- 
nexion between  employer  and  employed  which  differs  from 
the  relation  between  master  and  slave,  or  lord  and  vassal,  by 
not  including  allegiance.  Under  earlier  conditions  there  does 
not  exist  the  idea  of  detached  individual  life — life  which 
neither  receives  protection  from  a clan-head  or  feudal  supe- 
rior, nor  is  carried  on  in  obedience  to  him.  But  in  town 
populations,  made  up  largely  of  refugees,  who  either  become 
small  traders  or  are  employed  by  great  ones,  the  experience 
of  a relatively-independent  life  becomes  common,  and  the 
conception  of  it  clear. 

And  the  form  of  cooperation  distinctive  of  the  industrial 
state  thus  arising,  fosters  the  feelings  and  thoughts  appro- 
priate to  popular  power.  In  daily  usage  there  is  a balancing 
of  claims ; and  the  idea  of  equity  is,  generation  after  genera- 
tion, made  more  definite.  The  relations  between  employer 
and  employed,  and  between  buyer  and  seller,  can  be  main- 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


423 


tained  only  on  condition  that  the  obligations  on  either  side 
are  fulfilled.  Where  they  are  not  fulfilled  the  relation  lapses, 
and  leaves  outstanding  those  relations  in  which  they  are  ful- 
filled. Commercial  success  and  growth  have  thus,  as  their 
inevitable  concomitants,  the  maintenance  of  the  respective 
rights  of  those  concerned,  and  a strengthening  consciousness 
of  them. 

In  brief,  then,  dissolving  in  various  ways  the  old  relation 
of  status , and  substituting  the  new  relation  of  contract  (to 
use  Sir  Henry  Maine’s  antithesis),  progressing  industrialism 
brings  together  masses  of  people  who  by  their  circumstances 
are  enabled,  and  by  their  discipline  prompted,  to  modify  the 
political  organization  which  militancy  has  bequeathed. 

§ 498.  It  is  common  to  speak  of  free  forms  of  government 
as  having  been  initiated  by  happy  accidents.  Antagonisms 
between  different  powers  in  the  State,  or  different  factions, 
have  caused  one  or  other  of  them  to  bid  for  popular  support, 
with  the  result  of  increasing  popular  power.  The  king’s 
jealousy  of  the  aristocracy  has  induced  him  to  enlist  the 
sympathies  of  the  people  (sometimes  serfs  but  more  fre- 
quently citizens)  and  therefore  to  favour  them ; or,  otherwise, 
the  people  have  profited  by  alliance  with  the  aristocracy  in 
resisting  royal  tyrannies  and  exactions.  Doubtless,  the  facts 
admit  of  being  thus  presented.  With  conflict  there  habitually 
goes  the  desire  for  allies ; and  throughout  mediaeval  Europe 
while  the  struggles  between  monarchs  and  barons  were 
chronic,  the  support  of  the  towns  was  important.  Germany, 
France,  Spain,  Hungary,  furnish  illustrations. 

But  it  is  an  error  to  regard  occurrences  of  these  kinds  as 
causes  of  popular  powder.  They  are  to  be  regarded  rather  as 
the  conditions  under  which  the  causes  take  effect.  These 
incidental  weakenings  of  pre-existing  institutions,  do  but 
furnish  opportunities  for  the  action  of  the  pent-up  force  which 
is  ready  to  work  political  changes.  Three  factors  in  this 
force  may  be  distinguished : — the  relative  mass  of  those  com- 


424 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


posing  the  industrial  communities  as  distinguished  from  those 
embodied  in  the  older  forms  of  organization ; the  permanent 
sentiments  and  ideas  produced  in  them  by  their  mode  of 
life ; and  the  temporary  emotions  roused  by  special  acts  of 
oppression  or  by  distress.  Let  us  observe  the  cooperation  of 
these. 

Two  instances,  occurring  first  in  order  of  time,  are  fur- 
nished by  the  Athenian  democracy.  The  condition  which 
preceded  the  Solonian  legislation,  was  one  of  violent  dis- 
sension among  political  factions ; and  there  was  also  “ a 
general  mutiny  of  the  poorer  population  against  the  rich,  re- 
sulting from  misery  combined  with  oppression.”  The  more 
extensive  diffusion  of  power  effected  by  the  revolution  which 
Kleisthenes  brought  about,  occurred  under  kindred  circum- 
stances. The  relatively-detached  population  of  immigrant 
traders,  had  so  greatly  increased  between  the  time  of  Solon 
and  that  of  Kleisthenes,  that  the  four  original  tribes  forming 
the  population  of  Attica  had  to  be  replaced  by  ten.  And 
then  this  augmented  mass,  largely  composed  of  men  not 
under  clan-discipline,  and  therefore  less  easily  restrained  by 
the  ruling  classes,  forced  itself  into  predominance  at  a time 
when  the  ruling  classes  were  divided.  Though  it  is  said  that 
Kleisthenes  “ being  vanquished  in  a party  contest  with  his 
rival,  took  the  people  into  partnership” — though  the  change 
is  represented  as  being  one  thus  personally  initiated ; yet  in 
the  absence  of  that  voluminous  popular  will  which  had  long 
been  growing,,  the  political  re-organization  could  not  have 
been  made,  or,  if  made,  could  not  have  been  maintained. 
The  remark  which  Grote  quotes  from  Aristotle,  “ that  sedi- 
tions are  generated  by  great  causes  but  out  of  small  incidents,” 
if  altered  slightly  by  writing  “political  changes”  instead  of 
“seditions,”  fully  applies.  Tor  clearly,  once  having  been 
enabled  to  assert  itself,  this  popular  power  could  not  be  forth- 
with excluded.  Kleisthenes  could  not  under  such  circum- 
stances have  imposed  on  so  large  a mass  of  men  arrangements 
at  variance  with  their  wishes.  Practically,  therefore,  it  was  the 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


425 


growing  industrial  power  which  then  produced,  and  thereafter 
preserved,  the  democratic  organization.  Turning  to 

Italy,  we  first  note  that  the  establishment  of  the  small 
republics,  referred  to  in  a preceding  chapter  as  having  been 
simultaneous  with  the  decay  of  imperial  power,  may  here  be 
again  referred  to  more  specifically  as  having  been  simul- 
taneous with  that  conflict  of  authorities  which  caused  this 
decay.  Says  Sismondi,  “ the  war  of  investitures  gave  wing 
to  this  universal  spirit  of  liberty  and  patriotism  in  all  the 
municipalities  of  Lombardy,  of  Piedmont,  Venetia,  Romagna, 
and  Tuscany.”  In  other  words,  while  the  struggle  between 
Emperor  and  Pope  absorbed  the  strength  of  both,  it  became 
possible  for  the  people  to  assert  themselves.  And  at  a later 
time,  Florence  furnished  an  instance  similar  in  nature  if 
somewhat  different  in  form. 

“ At  the  moment  when  ‘ Florence  expelled  the  Medici,  that  republic 
was  bandied  between  three  different  parties/  Savonarola  took  advan- 
tage of  this  state  of  affairs  to  urge  that  the  people  should  reserve  their 
power  to  themselves,  and  exercise  it  by  a council.  His  proposition  was 
agreed  to,  and  this  ‘ council  was  declared  sovereign/  ” 

In  the  case  of  Spain,  again,  popular  power  increased  during 
the  troubles  accompanying  the  minority  of  Fernando  IY. ; 
and  of  the  periodic  assemblies  subsequently  formed  by 
deputies  from  certain  towns  (which  met  without  authority  of 
the  Government)  we  read  that — 

“ The  desire  of  the  Government  to  frustrate  the  aspiring  schemes  of 
the  Infantes  de  la  Cerda,  and  their  numerous  adherents,  made  the 
attachment  of  these  assemblies  indispensable.  The  disputes  during  the 
minority  of  Alfonso  XI.  more  than  ever  favoured  the  pretensions  of 
the  third  estate.  Each  of  the  candidates  for  the  regency  paid  assiduous 
court  to  the  municipal  authorities,  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  the  neces- 
sary suffrages/5 

And  how  all  this  was  consequent  on  industrial  development, 
appears  in  the  facts  that  many,  if  not  most,  of  these  associated 
towns,  had  arisen  during  a preceding  age  by  the  re-coloniza- 
tion  of  regions  desolated  during  the  prolonged  contests  of 
Moors  and  Christians ; and  that  these  “ poblaciones,”  or  com- 
munities of  colonists,  which,  scattered  over  these  vast  tracts 


426 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


grew  into  prosperous  towns,  had  been  formed  of  serfs  and 
artizans  to  whom  various  privileges,  including  those  of  self- 
government,  were  given  by  royal  charter.  With 

which  examples  must  be  joined  the  example  familiar  to  all. 
For  in  England  it  was  during  the  struggle  between  king  and 
barons,  when  the  factions  were  nearly  balanced,  and  when 
the  town-populations  had  been  by  trade  so  far  increased  that 
their  aid  was  important,  that  they  came  to  play  a noticeable 
part,  first  as  allies  in  war  and  afterwards  as  sharers  in  govern- 
ment. It  cannot  be  doubted  that  when  summoning  to  the 
parliament  of  1265,  not  only  knights  of  the  shire  but  also 
deputies  from  cities  and  boroughs,  Simon  of  Montfort  wTas 
prompted  by  the  desire  to  strengthen  himself  against  the 
royal  party  supported  by  the  Pope.  And  whether  he  sought 
thus  to  increase  his  adherents,  or  to  obtain  larger  pecuniary 
means,  or  both,  the  implication  equally  is  that  the  urban 
populations  had  become  a relatively-important  part  of  the 
nation.  This  interpretation  harmonizes  with  subsequent 
events.  For  though  the  representation  of  towns  afterwards 
lapsed,  yet  it  shortly  revived,  and  in  1295  became  established. 
As  Hume  remarks,  such  an  institution  could  not  “have 
attained  to  so  vigorous  a growth  and  have  flourished  in  the 
midst  of  such  tempests  and  convulsions,”  unless  it  had  been 
one,  “ for  which  the  general  state  of  things  had  already  pre- 
pared the  nation the  truth  here  to  be  added  being  that  this 
“ general  state  of  things”  was  the  augmented  mass,  and  hence 
augmented  influence,  of  the  free  industrial  communities. 

Confirmation  is  supplied  by  cases  showing  that  power 
gained  by  the  people  during  times  when  the  regal  and  aris- 
tocratic powers  are  diminished  by  dissension,  is  lost  again  if, 
while  the  old  organization  recovers  its  stability  and  activity, 
industrial  growth  does  not  make  proportionate  progress. 
Spain,  or  more  strictly  Castile,  yields  an  example.  Such 
share  in  government  as  was  acquired  by  those  industrial 
communities  which  grew  up  during  the  colonization  of  the 
waste  lands,  became,  in  the  space  of  a few  reigns  characterized 


KEPBE SENT ATIYE  BODIES.  427 

by  successful  wars  and  resulting  consolidations,  scarcely  more 
than  nominal. 

§ 499.  It  is  instructive  to  note  how  that  primary  incentive 
to  cooperation  which  initiates  social  union  at  large,  continues 
afterwards  to  initiate  special  unions  within  the  general  union. 
For  just  as  external  militancy  sets  up  and  carries  on  the 
organization  of  the  whole,  so  does  internal  militancy  set  up 
and  carry  on  the  organization  of  the  parts ; even  when  those 
parts,  industrial  in  their  activities,  are  intrinsically  non- 
militant. On  looking  into  their  histories  we  find  that  the 
increasing  clusters  of  people  who,  forming  towns,  lead  lives 
essentially  distinguished  by  continuous  exchange  of  services 
under  agreement,  develop  their  governmental  structures 
during  their  chronic  antagonisms  with  the  surrounding  mili- 
tant clusters. 

We  see,  first,  that  these  settlements  of  traders,  growing 
important  and  obtaining  royal  charters,  were  by  doing  this 
placed  in  quasi-militant  positions — became  in  modified  ways 
holders  of  fiefs  from  their  king,  and  had  the  associated  re- 
sponsibilities. Habitually  they  paid  dues  of  sundry  kinds 
equivalent  in  general  nature  to  those  paid  by  feudal  tenants ; 
and,  like  them,  they  were  liable  to  military  service.  In 
Spanish  chartered  towns  “ this  was  absolutely  due  from  every 
inhabitant and  “ every  man  of  a certain  property  was  bound 
to  serve  on  horseback  or  pay  a fixed  sum.”  In  France  “ in 
the  charters  of  incorporation  which  towns  received,  the 
number  of  troops  required  was  usually  expressed.”  And  in 
the  chartered  royal  burghs  of  Scotland  “ every  burgess  was  a 
direct  vassal  of  the  crown.” 

Next  observe  that  industrial  towns  (usually  formed  by 
coalescence  of  pre-existing  rural  divisions  rendered  populous 
because  local  circumstances  favoured  some  form  of  trade,  and 
presently  becoming  places  of  hiding  for  fugitives,  and  of 
security  for  escaped  serfs)  began  to  stand  toward  the  small 
feudally-governed  groups  around  them,  in  relations  like  those 


428 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


in  which  these  stood  to  one  another : competing  with  them 
for  adherents,  and  often  fortifying  themselves.  Sometimes, 
too,  as  in  France  in  the  13th  century,  towns  became  suze- 
rains, while  communes  had  the  right  of  war  in  numerous 
cases;  and  in  England  in  early  days  the  maritime  towns 
carried  on  wars  with  one  another. 

Again  there  is  the  fact  that  these  cities  and  boroughs, 
which  by  royal  charter  or  otherwise  had  acquired  powers  of 
administering  their  own  affairs,  habitually  formed  within 
themselves  combinations  for  protective  purposes.  In  England, 
in  Spain,  in  France,  in  Germany  (sometimes  with  assent  of 
the  king,  sometimes  notwithstanding  his  reluctance  as  in 
England,  sometimes  in  defiance  of  him,  as  in  ancient  Holland) 
there  rose  up  gilds,  which,  having  their  roots  in  the  natural 
unions  among  related  persons,  presently  gave  origin  to  frith- 
gilds  and  merchant-gilds ; and  these,  defensive  in  their  rela- 
tions to  one  another,  formed  the  bases  of  that  municipal 
organization  which  carried  on  the  general  defence  against 
aggressing  nobles. 

Once  more,  in  countries  where  the  antagonisms  between 
these  industrial  communities  and  the  surrounding  militant 
communities  were  violent  and  chronic,  the  industrial  com- 
munities combined  to  defend  themselves.  In  Spain  the 
“ poblaciones,”  which  when  they  flourished  and  grew  into 
large  places  were  invaded  and  robbed  by  adjacent  feudal 
lords,  formed  leagues  for  mutual  protection ; and  at  a later 
date  there  arose,  under  like  needs,  more  extensive  confedera- 
tions of  cities  and  towns,  which,  under  severe  penalties  for 
non-fulfilment  of  the  obligations,  bound  themselves  to  aid 
one  another  in  resisting  aggressions,  whether  by  king  or 
nobles.  In  Germany,  too,  we  have  the  perpetual  alliance 
entered  into  by  sixty  towns  on  the  Ehine  in  1255,  when, 
during  the  troubles  that  followed  the  deposition  of  the 
Emperor  Frederic  II.,  the  tyranny  of  the  nobles  had  become 
insupportable.  And  we  have  the  kindred  unions  formed 
under  like  incentives  in  Holland  and  in  France.  So  that, 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


429 


both  in  small  and  in  large  ways,  the  industrial  groups  here 
and  there  growing  up  within  a nation,  are,  in  many  cases, 
forced  by  local  antagonisms  partially  to  assume  activities 
and  structures  like  those  which  the  nation  as  a whole  is 
forced  to  assume  in  its  antagonisms  with  nations  around. 

Here  the  implication  chiefly  concerning  us  is  that  if  indus- 
trialism is  thus  checked  by  a return  to  militancy,  the  growth 
of  popular  power  is  arrested.  Especially  where,  as  happened 
in  the  Italian  republics,  defensive  war  passes  into  offensive 
war,  and  there  grows  up  an  ambition  to  conquer  other  terri- 
tories and  towns,  the  free  form  of  government  proper  to 
industrial  life,  becomes  qualified  by,  if  it  does  not  revert  to, 
the  coercive  form  accompanying  militant  life.  Or  where,  as 
happened  in  Spain,  the  feuds  between  towns  and  nobles  con- 
tinue through  long  periods,  the  rise  of  free  institutions  is 
arrested;  since,  under  such  conditions,  there  can  be  neither 
that  commercial  prosperity  which  produces  large  urban  popu- 
lations, nor  a cultivation  of  the  associated  mental  nature. 
Whence  it  may  be  inferred  that  the  growth  of  popular  power 
accompanying  industrial  growth  in  England,  was  largely  due 
to  the  comparatively  small  amount  of  this  warfare  between 
the  industrial  groups  and  the  feudal  groups  around  them. 
The  effects  of  the  trading  life  were  less  interfered  with ; and 
the  local  governing  centres,  urban  and  rural,  were  not  pre- 
vented from  uniting  to  restrain  the  general  centre. 

§ 500.  And  now  let  us  consider  more  specifically  how  the 
governmental  influence  of  the  people  is  acquired.  By  the 
histories  of  organizations  of  whatever  kind,  we  are  shown 
that  the  purpose  originally  subserved  by  some  arrangement  is 
not  always  the  purpose  eventually  subserved.  It  is  so  here. 
Assent  to  obligations  rather  than  assertion  of  rights  has  ordi- 
narily initiated  the  increase  of  popular  power.  Even  the 
transformation  effected  by  the  revolution  of  Kleisthenes  at 
Athens,  took  the  form  of  a re-distribution  of  tribes  and  demes 
for  purposes  of  taxation  and  military  service.  In  Eome,  too, 


430 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


that  enlargement  of  the  oligarchy  which  occurred  under 
Servius  Tullius,  had  for  its  ostensible  motive  the  imposing  on 
plebeians  of  obligations  which  up  to  that  time  had  been 
borne  exclusively  by  patricians.  But  we  shall  best  under- 
stand this  primitive  relation  between  duty  and  power,  in 
which  the  duty  is  original  and  the  power  derived,  by  going 
back  once  more  to  the  beginning. 

For  when  we  remember  that  the  primitive  political  assembly 
is  essentially  a war-council,  formed  of  leaders  who  debate  in 
presence  of  their  followers ; and  when  we  remember  that  in 
early  stages  all  free  adult  males,  being  warriors,  are  called  on  to 
join  in  defensive  or  offensive  actions  ; we  see  that,  originally, 
the  attendance  of  the  armed  freemen  is  in  pursuance  of  the 
military  service  to  which  they  are  bound,  and  that  such  power 
as,  when  thus  assembled,  they  exercise,  is  incidental.  Later 
stages  yield  clear  proofs  that  this  is  the  normal  order ; for  it 
recurs  where,  after  a political  dissolution,  political  organiza- 
tion begins  de  novo.  Instance  the  Italian  cities,  in  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  the  original  “ parliaments,”  summoned  for 
defence  by  the  tocsin,  included  all  the  men  capable  of  bearing 
arms  : the  obligation  to  fight  coming  first,  and  the  right  to 
vote  coming  second.  And,  naturally,  this  duty  of  attendance 
survives  when  the  primitive  assemblage  assumes  other 
functions  than  those  of  a militant  kind  ; as  witness  the  before- 
named  fact  that  among  the  Scandinavians  it  was  “ disrepu- 
table for  freemen  not  to  attend  ” the  annual  assembly ; and 
the  further  facts  that  in  France  the  obligation  to  be  present  at 
the  hundred-court  in  the  Merovingian  period,  rested  upon  all 
full  freemen  ; that  in  the  Carolingian  period  “ non-attendance 
is  punished  by  fines” ; that  in  England  the  lower  freemen,  as 
well  as  others,  were  “ bound  to  attend  the  shire-moot  and 
hundred-moot  ” under  penalty  of  “ large  fines  for  neglect  of 
duty and  that  in  the  thirteenth  century  in  Holland,  when 
the  burghers  were  assembled  for  public  purposes,  “ anyone 
ringing  the  town  bell,  except  by  general  consent,  and  anyone 
not  appearing  when  it  tolls,  are  liable  to  a fine.” 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


431 


After  recognizing  this  primitive  relation  between  popular 
duty  and  popular  power,  we  shall  more  clearly  understand 
the  relation  as  it  re-appears  when  popular  power  begins  to 
revive  along  with  the  growth  of  industrialism.  For  here, 
again,  the  fact  meets  us  that  the  obligation  is  primary  and  the 
power  secondary.  It  is  mainly  as  furnishing  aid  to  the  ruler, 
generally  for  war  purposes,  that  the  deputies  from  towns 
begin  to  share  in  public  affairs.  There  recurs  under  a com- 
plex form,  that  which  at  an  early  stage  we  see  in  a simple 
form.  Let  us  pause  a moment  to  observe  the  transition. 

As  was  shown  when  treating  of  Ceremonial  Institutions, 
the  revenues  of  rulers  are  derived,  at  first  wholly  and  after- 
wards partially,  from  presents.  The  occasions  on  which 
assemblies  are  called  together  to  discuss  public  affairs  (mainly 
military  operations  for  which  supplies  are  needed)  naturally 
become  the  occasions  on  which  the  expected  gifts  are  offered 
'and  received.  When  by  successful  wars  the  militant  king 
consolidates  small  societies  into  a large  one — when  there 
comes  an  “ increase  of  royal  power  in  intension  as  the  king- 
dom increases  in  extension  ” (to  quote  the  luminous  expres- 
sion of  Prof.  Stubbs) ; and  when,  as  a consequence,  the  quasi- 
voluntary gifts  become  more  and  more  compulsory,  though 
still  retaining  such  names  as  donum  and  auxilium ; it  generally 
happens  that  these  exactions,  passing  a bearable  limit,  lead  to 
resistance : at  first  passive  and  in  extreme  cases  active.  If 
by  consequent  disturbances  the  royal  power  is  much  weakened, 
the  restoration  of  order,  if  it  takes  place,  is  likely  to  take 
place  on  the  understanding  that,  with  such  modifications  as 
may  be  needful,  the  primitive  system  of  voluntary  gifts  shall 
be  re-established.  Thus,  when  in  Spain  the  death  of  Sancho  I. 
was  followed  by  political  dissensions,  the  deputies  from  thirty- 
two  places,  who  assembled  at  Valladolid,  decided  that  demands 
made  by  the  king  beyond  the  customary  dues  should  be 
answered  by  death  of  the  messenger ; and  the  need  for  gaining 
the  adhesion  of  the  towns  during  the  conflict  with  a pre- 
tender, led  to  an  apparent  toleration  of  this  attitude.  Simi- 


432 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


larly  in  the  next  century,  during  disputes  as  to  the  regency 
while  Alphonse  XI.  was  a minor,  the  cortes  at  Burgos 
demanded  that  the  towns  should  “contribute  nothing  beyond 
what  was  prescribed  in”  their  charters.  Kindred  causes 
wrought  kindred  results  in  France ; as  when,  by  an  insur- 
rectionary league,  Louis  Hutin  was  obliged  to  grant  charters 
to  the  nobles  and  burgesses  of  Picardy  and  of  Normandy, 
renouncing  the  right  of  imposing  undue  exactions;  and  as 
when,  on  sundry  occasions,  the  States-general  were  assembled 
for  the  purpose  of  reconciling  the  nation  to  imposts  levied 
to  carry  on  wars.  Nor  must  its  familiarity  cause  us  to  omit 
the  instance  furnished  by  our  own  history,  when,  after  pre- 
liminary steps  towards  that  end  at  St.  Alban's  and  St. 
Edmund’s,  nobles  and  people  at  Eunnymede  effectually 
restrained  the  king  from  various  tyrannies,  and,  among  others, 
from  that  of  imposing  taxes,  without  the  consent  of  his  sub- 
jects. 

And  now  what  followed  from  arrangements  which,  with 
modifications  due  to  local  conditions,  were  arrived  at  in  several 
countries  under  similar  circumstances  ? Evidently  when  the 
king,  hindered  from  enforcing  unauthorized  demands,  had  to 
obtain  supplies  by  asking  his  subjects,  or  the  more  powerful 
of  them,  his  motive  for  summoning  them,  or  their  representa- 
tives, became  primarily  that  of  getting  these  supplies.  The 
predominance  of  this  motive  for  calling  together  national 
assemblies,  may  be  inferred  from  its  predominance  previously 
shown  in  connexion  with  local  assemblies ; as  instance  a 
writ  of  Henry  I.  concerning  shire-moots,  in  which,  professing 
to  restore  ancient  custom,  he  says — “ I will  cause  those  courts 
to  be  summoned  when  I will  for  my  own  sovereign  necessity, 
at  my  pleasure.”  To  vote  money  is  therefpre  the  primary 
purpose  for  which  chief  men  and  representatives  are  as- 
sembled. 

§ 501.  From  the  ability  to  prescribe  conditions  under  which 
money  will  be  voted,  grows  the  ability,  and  finally  the  right, 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


433 


to  join  in  legislation.  This  connexion  is  vaguely  typified  in 
early  stages  of  social  evolution.  Making  gifts  and  getting 
redress  go  together  from  the  beginning.  As  was  said  of  Gulab 
Singh,  when  treating  of  presents—  “ even  in  a crowd  one 
could  catch  his  eye  by  holding  up  a rupee  and  crying  out, 
‘Maharajah,  a petition/  He  would  pounce  down  like  a hawk 
on  the  money,  and,  having  appropriated  it,  would  patiently 
hear  out  the  petitioner.”*  I have  in  the  same  place  given 
further  examples  of  this  relation  between  yielding  support  to 
the  governing  agency,  and  demanding  protection  from  it ; and 
the  examples  there  given  may  be  enforced  by  such  others  as 
that,  among  ourselves  in  early  days,  “ the  king's  court  itself, 
though  the  supreme  judicature  of  the  kingdom,  was  open  to 
none  that  brought  not  presents  to  the  king/’  and  that, 
as  shown  by  the  exchequer  rolls,  every  remedy  for  a grievance 
or  security  against  aggression  had  to  be  paid  for  by  a bribe : 
a state  of  things  which,  as  Hume  remarks,  was  paralleled  on 
the  Continent. 

Such  being  the  original  connexion  between  support  of  the 
political  head  and  protection  by  the  political  head,  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  actions  of  parliamentary  bodies,  when  they 
arise,  becomes  clear.  Just  as  in  rude  assemblies  of  king, 
military  chiefs,  and  armed  freemen,  preserving  in  large 
measure  the  primitive  form,  as  those  in  France  during  the 
Merovingian  period,  the  presentation  of  gifts  went  along  with 
the  transaction  of  public  business,  judicial  as  well  as  military 
— just  as  in  our  own  ancient  shire-moot,  local  government,  in- 
cluding the  administration  of  justice,  was  accompanied  by  the 
furnishing  of  ships  and  the  payment  of  “ a composition  for 
the  feorm-fultum,  or  sustentation  of  the  king  so  when,  after 
successful  resistance  to  excess  of  royal  power,  there  came 

* Reference  to  the  passage  since  made  shows  not  only  this  initial  relation, 
but  still  more  instructively  shows  that  at  the  very  beginning  there  arises  the 
question  whether  protection  shall  come  first  and  payment  afterwards,  or  pay- 
ment first  and  protection  afterwards.  For  the  passage  continues  : — “ Once  a 
man  after  this  fashion  making  a complaint,  when  the  Maharajah  was  taking 
the  rupee,  closed  his  hand  on  it,  and  said,  ‘ No,  first  hear  what  I have  to  say.’  ” 


434 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


assemblies  of  nobles  and  representatives  summoned  by  the 
king,  there  re-appeared,  on  a higher  platform,  these  simulta- 
neous demands  for  money  on  the  one  side  and  for  justice  on 
the  other.  We  may  assume  it  as  certain  that  with  an  average 
humanity,  the  conflicting  egoisms  of  those  concerned  will  be 
the  main  factors ; and  that  on  each  side  the  aim  will  be  to 
give  as  little,  and  get  as  much,  as  circumstances  allow.  F ranee, 
Spain,  and  England,  yield  examples  which  unite  in  showing 
this. 

When  Charles  Y.  of  France,  in  1357,  dismissing  the  States- 
general  for  alleged  encroachments  on  his  rights,  raised  money 
by  further  debasing  the  coinage,  and  caused  a sedition  in 
Paris  which  endangered  his  life,  there  was,  three  months  later, 
a re-convocation  of  the  States,  in  which  the  petitions  of  the 
former  assembly  were  acceded  to,  while  a subsidy  for  war 
purposes  was  voted.  And  of  an  assembled  States-general  in 
1366,  Hallam  writes  : — “ The  necessity  of  restoring  the  coinage 
is  strongly  represented  as  the  grand  condition  upon  which 
they  consented  to  tax  the  people,  who  had  been  long  defrauded 
by  the  base  money  of  Philip  the  Fair  and  his  successors.” 
Again,  in  Spain,  the  incorporated  towns,  made  liable  by  their 
charters  only  for  certain  payments  and  services,  had  continually 
to  resist  unauthorized  demands  ; while  the  kings,  continually 
promising  not  to  take  more  than  their  legal  and  customary 
dues,  were  continually  breaking  their  promises.  In  1328 
Alfonso  XI.  “ bound  himself  not  to  exact  from  his  people,  or 
cause  them  to  pay,  any  tax,  either  partial  or  general,  not 
hitherto  established  by  law,  without  the  previous  grant  of  all 
the  deputies  convened  by  the  Cortes.”  And  how  little  such 
pledges  were  kept  is  shown  by  the  fact  that,  in  1393,  the  Cortes 
wTho  made  a grant  to  Henry  III.,  joined  the  condition  that — 
“ He  should  swear  before  one  of  the  archbishops  not  to  take  or  demand 
any  money,  service,  or  loan,  or  anything  else  of  the  cities  and  towns,  nor 
of  individuals  belonging  to  them,  on  any  pretence  of  necessity,  until  the 
three  estates  of  the  kingdom  should  first  be  duly  summoned  and 
assembled  in  Cortes  according  to  ancient  usage.” 

Similarly  in  England  during  the  time  when  parliamentary 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


435 


power  was  being  established.  While,  with  national  consoli- 
dation, the  royal  authority  had  been  approaching  to  absolute- 
ness, there  had  been,  by  reaction,  arising  that  resistance  which, 
resulting  in  the  Great  Charter,  subsequently  initiated  the 
prolonged  struggle  between  the  king,  trying  to  break  through 
its  restraints,  and  his  subjects  trying  to  maintain  and  to 
strengthen  them.  The  twelfth  article  of  the  Charter  having 
promised  that  no  scutage  or  aid  save  those  which  were  esta- 
blished should  be  imposed  without  consent  of  the  national 
council,  there  perpetually  recurred,  both  before  and  after  the 
expansion  of  Parliament,  endeavours  on  the  king’s  part  to 
get  supplies  without  redressing  grievances,  and  endeavours  on 
the  part  of  Parliament  to  make  the  voting  of  supplies  con- 
tingent on  fulfilment  of  promises  to  redress  grievances. 

On  the  issue  of  this  struggle  depended  the  establishment  of 
popular  power ; as  we  are  shown  by  comparing  the  histories 
of  the  French  and  Spanish  Parliaments  with  that  of  the 
English  Parliament.  Quotations  above  given  prove  that  the 
Cortes  originally  established,  and  for  a time  maintained,  the 
right  to  comply  with  or  to  refuse  the  king’s  requests  for 
money,  and  to  impose  their  conditions ; but  they  eventually 
failed  to  get  their  conditions  fulfilled. 

“ In  the  struggling  condition  of  Spanish  liberty  under  Charles  I.,  the 
crown  began  to  neglect  answering  the  petitions  of  Cortes,  or  to  use  un- 
satisfactory generalities  of  expression.  This  gave  rise  to  many  remon- 
strances. The  deputies  insisted,  in  1523,  on  having  answers  before  they 
granted  money.  They  repeated  the  same  contention  in  1525,  and 
obtained  a general  law,  inserted  in  the  Recopilacion,  enacting  that  the 
king  should  answer  all  their  petitions  before  he  dissolved  the  assembly. 
This,  however,  was  disregarded  as  before.” 

And  thereafter  rapidly  went  on  the  decay  of  parliamentary 
power.  Different  in  form  but  the  same  in  nature,  was  the 
change  which  occurred  in  France.  Having  at  one  time,  as 
shown  above,  made  the  granting  of  money  conditional  on  the 
obtainment  of  justice,  the  States-general  was  induced  to 
surrender  its  restraining  powers.  Charles  VII. — 

“ obtained  from  the  States  of  the  royal  domains  which  met  in  1439  that 
10 


436 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


they  [the  tailles]  should  be  declared  permanent,  and  from  1444  he  levied 
them  as  such,  i.e . uninterruptedly  and  without  previous  vote.  . . . 
The  permanence  of  the  tailles  was  extended  to  the  provinces  annexed 
to  the  crown,  but  these  preserved  the  right  of  voting  them  by  their  pro- 
vincial estates.  ...  In  the  hands  of  Charles  VII.,  and  Louis  XI., 
the  royal  impost  tended  to  be  freed  from  all  control.  . . . Its  amount 
increased  more  and  more.” 

Whence,  as  related  by  Dareste,  it  resulted  that  “ when  the 
tailles  and  aides  . . . had  been  made  permanent,  the 
convocation  of  the  States -general  ceased  to  be  necessary. 
They  were  little  more  than  show  assemblies.”  But  in  our 
own  case,  during  the  century  succeeding  the  final  establish- 
ment of  Parliament,  frequent  struggles  necessitated  by  royal 
evasions,  trickeries,  and  falsehoods,  brought  increasing  power 
to  withhold  supplies  until  petitions  had  been  attended  to. 

Admitting  that  this  issue  was  furthered  by  the  conflicts  of 
political  factions,  which  diminished  the  coercive  power  of  the 
king,  the  truth  to  be  emphasized  is  that  the  increase  of  a free 
industrial  population  was  its  fundamental  cause.  The  calling 
together  knights  of  the  shire,  representing  the  class  of  small 
landowners,  which  preceded  on  several  occasions  the  calling 
together  deputies  from  towns,  implied  the  growing  im- 
portance of  this  class  as  one  from  which  money  was  to  be 
raised ; and  when  deputies  from  towns  were  summoned  to  the 
Parliament  of  1295,  the  form  of  summons  shows  that  the 
motive  was  to  get  pecuniary  aid  from  portions  of  the  popula- 
tion which  had  become  relatively  considerable  and  rich. 
Already  the  king  had  on  more  than  one  occasion  sent  special 
agents  to  shires  and  boroughs  to  raise  subsidies  from  them 
for  his  wars.  Already  he  had  assembled  provincial  councils 
formed  of  representatives  from  cities,  boroughs,  and  market- 
towns,  that  he  might  ask  them  for  votes  of  money.  And 
when  the  great  Parliament  was  called  together,  the  reason  set 
forth  in  the  writs  was  that  wars  with  Wales,  Scotland,  and 
France,  were  endangering  the  realm : the  implication  being 
that  the  necessity  for  obtaining  supplies  led  to  this  recogni- 
tion of  the  towns  as  well  as  the  counties. 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


437 


So  too  was  it  in  Scotland.  The  first  known  occasion  on 
which  representatives  from  burghs  entered  into  political 
action,  was  when  there  was  urgent  need  for  pecuniary  help 
from  all  sources;  namely,  “at  Cambuskenneth  on  the  15th 
day  of  July,  1326,  when  Bruce  claimed  from  his  people  a 
revenue  to  meet  the  expenses  of  his  glorious  war  and  the 
necessities  of  the  State,  which  was  granted  to  the  monarch 
by  the  earls,  barons,  burgesses,  and  free  tenants,  in  full 
parliament  assembled.” 

In  which  cases,  while  we  are  again  shown  that  the  obliga- 
tion is  original  and  the  power  derived,  we  are  also  shown  that 
it  is  the  increasing  mass  of  those  who  carry  on  life  by  volun- 
tary cooperation  instead  of  compulsory  cooperation — partly 
the  rural  class  of  small  freeholders  and  still  more  the  urban 
class  of  traders — which  initiates  popular  representation. 

§ 502.  Still  there  remains  the  question — How  does  the 
representative  body  become  separate  from  the  consultative 
body  ? Betaining  the  primitive  character  of  councils  of  war, 
national  assemblies  wTere  in  the  beginning  mixed.  The  dif- 
ferent “ arms,”  as  the  estates  were  called  in  Spain,  originally 
formed  a single  body.  Knights  of  the  shire  when  first  sum- 
moned, acting  on  behalf  of  numerous  smaller  tenants  of  the 
king  owing  military  service,  sat  and  voted  with  the  greater 
tenants.  Standing,  as  towns  did  at  the  outset,  very  much  in  the 
position  of  fiefs,  those  who  represented  them  were  not  unallied 
in  legal  status  to  feudal  chiefs ; and,  at  first  assembling  with 
these,  in  some  cases  remained  united  with  them,  as  appears  to 
have  been  habitually  the  case  in  France  and  Spain.  Under 
what  circumstances,  then,  do  the  consultative  and  representa- 
tive bodies  differentiate  ? The  question  is  one  to  which  there 
seems  no  very  satisfactory  answer. 

Quite  early  we  may  see  foreshadowed  a tendency  to  part, 
determined  by  unlikeness  of  functions.  During  the  Carolin- 
gian  period  in  France,  there  were  two  annual  gatherings : a 
larger  which  all  the  armed  freemen  had  a right  to  attend,  and 


438 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


a smaller  formed  of  the  greater  personages  deliberating  on 
more  special  affairs. 

“ If  the  weather  was  fine,  all  this  passed  in  the  open  air ; if  not,  in 
distinct  buildings.  . . . When  the  lay  and  ecclesiastical  lords  were 
. . . separated  from  the  multitude,  it  remained  in  their  option  to  sit 
together,  or  separately,  according  to  the  affairs  of  which  they  had  to 
treat.” 

And  that  unlikeness  of  functions  is  a cause  of  separation 
we  find  evidence  in  other  places  and  times.  Describing  the 
armed  national  assemblies  of  the  Hungarians,  originally 
mixed,  Levy  writes : — “ La  derniere  reunion  de  ce  genre  eut 
lieu  quelque  temps  avant  la  bataille  de  Mohacs ; mais  bientot 
apres,  la  diete  se  divisa  en  deux  chambres:  la  table  des 
magnats  et  la  table  des  deputes.”  In  Scotland,  again,  in 
1367 — 8,  the  three  estates  having  met,  and  wishing,  for 
reasons  of  economy  and  convenience,  to  be  excused  from 
their  functions  as  soon  as  possible,  “ elected  certain  persons  to 
hold  Parliament,  who  were  divided  into  two  bodies,  one  for 
the  general  affairs  of  the  king  and  kingdom,  and  another,  a 
smaller  division,  for  acting  as  judges  upon  appeals.”  In  the 
case  of  England  we  find  that  though,  in  the  writs  calling 
together  Simon  of  Montfort’s  Parliament,  no  distinction  was 
made  between  magnates  and  deputies,  yet  when,  a generation 
after,  Parliament  became  established,  the  writs  made  a dis- 
tinction : “ counsel  is  deliberately  mentioned  in  the  invitation 
to  the  magnates,  action  and  consent  in  the  invitation  to 
representatives.”  Indeed  it  is  clear  that  since  the  earlier- 
formed  body  of  magnates  wTas  habitually  summoned  for 
consultative  purposes,  especially  military,  while  the  represen- 
tatives afterwards  added  were  summoned  only  to  grant 
money,  there  existed  from  the  outset  a cause  for  separation. 
Sundry  influences  conspired  to  produce  it.  Difference  of 
language,  still  to  a considerable  extent  persisting  and  imped- 
ing joint  debate,  furnished  a reason.  Then  there  was  the 
effect  of  class-feeling,  of  which  we  have  definite  proof. 
Though  they  were  in  the  same  assembly,  the  deputies  from 
boroughs  “ sat  apart  both  from  the  barons  and  knights,  who 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


439 


disdained  to  mix  with  such  mean  personages ; ” and  probably 
the  deputies  themselves,  little  at  ease  in  presence  of  imposing 
superiors,  preferred  sitting  separately.  Moreover,  it  was 
customary  for  the  several  estates  to  submit  to  taxes  in  dif- 
ferent proportions ; and  this  tended  to  entail  consultation 
among  the  members  of  each  by  themselves.  Finally,  we  read 
that  “ after  they  [the  deputies]  had  given  their  consent  to 
the  taxes  required  of  them,  their  business  being  then  finished, 
they  separated,  even  though  the  Parliament  still  continued  to 
sit,  and  to  canvass  the  national  business.”  In  which  last  fact 
we  are  clearly  shown  that  though  aided  by  other  causes, 
unlikeness  of  duties  was  the  essential  cause  which  at  length 
produced  a permanent  separation  between  the  representative 
body  and  the  consultative  body. 

Thus  at  first  of  little  account,  and  growing  in  power  only 
because  the  free  portion  of  the  community  occupied  in  pro- 
duction and  distribution  grew  in  mass  and  importance,  so  that 
its  petitions,  treated  with  increasing  respect  and  more  fre- 
quently yielded  to,  began  to  originate  legislation,  the  repre- 
sentative body  came  to  be  that  part  of  the  governing  agency 
which  more  and  more  expresses  the  sentiments  and  ideas  of 
industrialism.  While  the  monarch  and  upper  house  are  the 
products  of  that  ancient  regime  of  compulsory  cooperation 
the  spirit  of  which  they  still  manifest,  though  in  decreasing 
degrees,  the  lower  house  is  the  product  of  that  modern  regime 
of  voluntary  cooperation  which  is  replacing  it ; and  in  an 
increasing  degree,  this  lowrer  house  carries  out  the  wishes  of 
people  habituated  to  a daily  life  regulated  by  contract  instead 
of  by  status. 

§ 503.  To  prevent  misconception  it  must  be  remarked, 
before  summing  up,  that  an  account  of  representative  bodies 
which  have  been  in  modern  days  all  at  once  created,  is  not 
here  called  for.  Colonial  legislatures,  consciously  framed  in 
conformity  with  traditions  brought  from  the  mother-country, 
illustrate  the  genesis  of  senatorial  and  representative  bodies 


440 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


in  but  a restricted  sense:  showing,  as  they  do,  how  the 
structures  of  parent  societies  reproduce  themselves  in  derived 
societies,  so  far  as  materials  and  circumstances  allow;  but 
not  showing  how  these  structures  were  originated.  Still  less 
need  we  notice  those  cases  in  which,  after  revolutions,  peoples 
who  have  lived  under  despotisms  are  led  by  imitation  sud- 
denly to  establish  representative  bodies.  Here  we  are  con- 
cerned only  with  the  gradual  evolution  of  such  bodies. 

Originally  supreme,  though  passive,  the  third  element  in 
the  tri-une  political  structure,  subjected  more  and  more  as 
militant  activity  develops  an  appropriate  organization,  begins 
to  re-acquire  power  when  war  ceases  to  be  chronic.  Subordi- 
nation relaxes  as  fast  as  it  becomes  less  imperative.  Awe  of 
the  ruler,  local  or  general,  and  accompanying  manifestations 
of  fealty,  decrease ; and  especially  so  where  the  prestige  of 
supernatural  origin  dies  out.  Where  the  life  is  rural  the  old 
relations  long  survive  in  qualified  forms ; but  clans  or  feudal 
groups  clustered  together  in  towns,  mingled  with  numbers  of 
unattached  immigrants,  become  in  various  ways  less  con- 
trollable ; while  by  their  habits  their  members  are  educated 
to  increasing  independence.  The  small  industrial  groups 
thus  growing  up  within  a nation  consolidated  and  organized 
by  militancy,  can  but  gradually  diverge  in  nature  from  the 
rest.  For  a long  time  they  remain  partially  militant  in  their 
structures  and  in  their  relations  to  other  parts  of  the  com- 
munity. At  first  chartered  towns  stand  substantially  on  the 
footing  of  fiefs,  paying  feudal  dues  and  owing  military 
service.  They  develop,  within  themselves,  unions,  more  or  less 
coercive  in  character,  for  mutual  protection.  They  often 
carry  on  wars  with  adjacent  nobles  and  with  one  another. 
They  not  uncommonly  form  leagues  for  joint  defence.  And 
where  the  semi-militancy  of  towns  is  maintained,  industrial 
development  and  accompanying  increase  of  popular  power 
are  arrested. 

But  where  circumstances  have  favoured  manufacturing  and 
commercial  activities,  and  growth  of  the  population  devoted 


REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES. 


441 


to  them,  this,  as  it  becomes  a large  component  of  the  society, 
makes  its  influence  felt.  The  primary  obligation  to  render 
money  and  service  to  the  head  of  the  State,  often  reluctantly 
complied  with,  is  resisted  when  the  exactions  are  great ; and 
resistance  causes  conciliatory  measures.  There  comes  asking 
assent  rather  than  resort  to  compulsion.  If  absence  of 
violent  local  antagonisms  permits,  then  on  occasions  when 
the  political  head,  rousing  anger  by  injustice,  is  also  weakened 
by  defections,  there  comes  cooperation  with  other  classes 
of  oppressed ' subjects.  Men  originally  delegated  simply 
that  they  may  authorize  imposed  burdens,  are  enabled  as 
the  power  behind  them  increases,  more  and  more  firmly  to 
insist  on  conditions ; and  the  growing  practice  of  yielding  to 
their  petitions  as  a means  to  obtaining  their  aid,  initiates  the 
practice  of  letting  them  share  in  legislation. 

Finally,  in  virtue  of  the  general  law  of  organization  that 
difference  of  functions  entails  differentiation  and  division  of 
the  parts  performing  them,  there  comes  a separation.  At 
first  summoned  to  the  national  assembly  for  purposes  par- 
tially like  and  partially  unlike  those  of  its  other  members, 
the  elected  members  show  a segregating  tendency,  which, 
where  the  industrial  portion  of  the  community  continues  to 
gain  power,  ends  in  the  formation  of  a representative  body 
distinct  from  the  original  consultative  body. 


CHAPTER  X. 


MINISTKIES. 

§ 504.  Men  chosen  by  the  ruler  to  help  him,  we  meet  with 
in  early  stages  of  social  evolution — men  whose  positions  and 
duties  are  then  vague  and  variable.  At  the  outset  there  is 
nothing  to  determine  the  selection  of  helpers  save  considera- 
tions of  safety,  or  convenience,  or  liking.  Hence  we  find 
ministers  of  quite  different  origins. 

Relationship  leads  to  the  choice  in  some  places  and  times; 
as  with  the  Bachassins,  among  whom  the  chief’s  brother 
conveys  his  orders  and  sees  them  executed;  as  of  old  in 
Japan,  where  the  Emperor’s  son  was  prime  minister  and  the 
daimios  had  cadets  of  their  families  as  counsellors;  as  in 
ancient  Egypt  where  “ the  principal  officers  of  the  Court  or 
administration  appear  to  have  been  at  the  earliest  period  the 
relatives”  of  the  king.  Though  in  some  cases  family -jealousy 
excludes  kinsmen  from  these  places  of  authority,  in  other 
cases  family-feeling  and  trust,  and  the  belief  that  the  desire 
for  family-predominance  will  ensure  loyalty,  lead  to  the 
employment  of  brothers,  cousins,  nephews,  &e. 

More  general  appears  to  be  the  unobtrusive  growth  of  per- 
sonal attendants,  or  household  servants,  into  servants  of  State. 
Those  who  are  constantly  in  contact  with  the  ruler  have 
opportunities  of  aiding  or  hindering  intercourse  with  him, 
of  biassing  him  by  their  statements,  and  of  helping  or 
impeding  the  execution  of  his  commands;  and  they  thus 
gain  power,  and  tend  to  become  advising  and  executive 


MINISTRIES. 


443 


agents.  From  the  earliest  times  onwards  we  meet  with 
illustrations.  In  ancient  Egypt — 

“ The  office  of  fan-bearer  to  the  king  was  a highly  honourable  post, 
which  none  but  the  royal  princes,  or  the  sons  of  the  first  nobility,  were 
permitted  to  hold.  These  constituted  a principal  part  of  his  staff ; and 
in  the  field  they  either  attended  on  the  monarch  to  receive  his  orders, 
or  were  despatched  to  have  the  command  of  a division.” 

In  Assyria  the  attendants  who  thus  rose  to  power  were  not 
relatives,  but  were  habitually  eunuchs;  and  the  like  hap- 
pened in  Persia.  “ In  the  later  times,  the  eunuchs  acquired 
a vast  political  authority,  and  appear  to  have  then  filled  all 
the  chief  offices  of  state.  They  were  the  king’s  advisers  in 
the  palace,  and  his  generals  in  the  field.”  Kindred  illustra- 
tions are  furnished  by  the  West.  Shown  among  the  primitive 
Germans,  the  tendency  for  officers  of  the  king’s  household  to 
become  political  officers,  was  conspicuous  in  the  Merovingian 
period : the  seneschal,  the  marshal,  the  chamberlain,  grew 
into  public  functionaries.  Dowm  to  the  later  feudal  period 
in  France,  the  public  and  household  administrations  of  .the 
king  were  still  undistinguished.  So  was  it  in  old  English 
times.  According  to  Kemble,  the  four  great  officers  of  the 
Court  and  Household  were  the  Hraege  Thegn  (servant  of  the 
wardrobe) ; the  Steallere  and  Horsthegn  (first,  Master  of  the 
Horse,  then  General  of  the  Household  Troops,  then  Constable 
or  Grand  Marshal) ; the  Discthegn  (or  thane  of  the  table — 
afterwards  Seneschal) ; the  Butler  (perhaps  Byrele  or  Scenca). 
The  like  held  under  the  conquering  Normans ; and  it  holds  in 
a measure  down  to  the  present  time. 

Besides  relatives  and  servants,  friends  are  naturally  in  some 
cases  fixed  on  by  the  ruler  to  get  him  information,  give  him 
advice,  and  carry  out  his  orders.  Among  ancient  examples  the 
Hebrews  furnish  one.  Remarking  that  in  the  small  kingdoms 
around  Israel  in  earlier  times,  it  was  customary  for  the  ruler 
to  have  a single  friend  to  aid  him,  Ewald  points  out  that 
under  David,  with  a larger  State  and  a more  complex  ad- 
ministration, “ the  different  departments  are  necessarily  more 
subdivided,  and  new  offices  of  ‘ friends  ’ or  ministers  of  the 


444 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


king  assume  a sort  of  independent  importance.”  Like 
needs  produced  kindred  effects  in  the  first  days  of  the  Eoman 
empire.  Duruy  writes  : — 

“ Augustus,  who  called  himself  a plain  Eoman  citizen,  could  not,  like  a 
king,  have  ministers,  but  only  friends  who  aided  him  with  their  experi- 
ence. . . . The  multitude  of  questions  . . . induced  him  afterwards  to 
distribute  the  chief  affairs  regularly  among  his  friends.  . . . This  council 
was  gradually  organized.” 

And  then  in  later  days  and  other  regions,  we  see  that  out  of 
the  group  known  as  “ friends  of  the  king ” there  are  often 
some,  or  there  is  one,  in  whom  confidence  is  reposed  and  to 
whom  power  is  deputed.  In  Eussia  the  relation  of  Lefort  to 
Peter  the  Great,  in  Spain  that  of  Albuquerque  to  Don  Pedro, 
and  among  ourselves  that  of  Gaveston  to  Edward  II., 
sufficiently  illustrate  the  genesis  of  ministerial  power  out  of 
the  power  gained  by  personal  friendship  and  consequent 
trust.  And  then  with  instances  of  this  kind  are  to  be 
joined  instances  showing  how  attachment  between  the  sexes 
comes  into  play.  Such  facts  as  that  after  xilbuquerque  fell, 
all  offices  about  the  court  were  filled  by  relations  of  the 
king's  mistress  ; that  in  France  under  Louis  XV.  “ the  only 
visible  government  was  that  by  women”  from  Mme.  de 
Prie  to  Mme.  du  Barry ; and  that  in  Eussia  during  the  reign 
of  Catherine  II.,  her  successive  lovers  acquired  political 
power,  and  became  some  of  them  prime  ministers  and 
practically  autocrats ; will  serve  adequately  to  recall  a ten- 
dency habitually  displayed. 

Eegarded  as  able  to  help  the  ruler  supernaturally  as  well 
as  naturally,  the  priest  is  apt  to  become  his  chosen  ally  and 
agent.  The  Tahitians  may  be  named  as  having  a prime 
minister  who  is  also  chief  priest.  In  Africa,  among  the 
Eggarahs  (Inland  Negroes),  a priest  “officiates  as  minister  of 
war.”  How  political  power  of  priests  results  from  their  sup- 
posed influence  with  the  gods,  is  well  shown  by  the  case  of 
Mizteca  (part  of  Mexico). 

“The  high-priests  were  highly  respected  by  the  caziques,  who  did 
nothing  without  their  advice  ; they  commanded  armies,  and  ruled  the 


MINISTRIES. 


445 


state,  reproved  vice,  and  when  there  was  no  amendment,  threatened 
famine,  plague,  war,  and  the  anger  of  the  gods.” 

Other  places  in  ancient  America — Guatemala,  Yera  Paz,  &c., 
furnish  kindred  facts ; as  do  historic  peoples  from  the  earliest 
times  downwards.  In  ancient  Egypt  the  king’s  advisers 
mostly  belonged  to  the  priestly  caste.  Under  the  Roman 
emperors  ecclesiastics  became  ministers  and  secret  counsellors. 
In  mediaeval  days  Dominican  and  Franciscan  monks  held  the 
highest  political  offices.  And  in  later  times  the  connexion 
was  shown  by  the  ministerial  power  of  cardinals,  or,  as  in 
Russia,  of  patriarchs.  This  acquisition  of  leading  political 
functions  by  functionaries  of  the  church,  has  in  some  cases 
special  causes  in  addition  to  the  general  cause.  A royal 
chaplain  (uniting  the  character  of  personal  attendant  with 
that  of  priest)  stands  in  a relation  to  the  king  which  almost 
necessitates  acquisition  of  great  influence.  Moreover,  being 
fitted  by  culture  for  secretarial  work,  he  falls  naturally  into 
certain  State-duties;  as  he  did  into  those  of  chancellor  among 
ourselves  in  early  days. 

Recognizing  the  fact  that  at  the  outset,  these  adminis- 
trative agents,  whatever  further  characters  they  have,  are 
usually  also  soldiers,  and  are  included  in  the  primitive  consul- 
tative body,  of  which  they  become  specialized  parts,  w'e  may 
say  of  them  generally,  that  they  are  relatives,  friends,  attend- 
ants, priests,  brought  into  close  relations  with  the  ruler,  out 
of  whom  he  is  obliged  by  stress  of  business  to  choose  assist- 
ants ; and  that  at  first  vague  and  irregular,  their  appointments 
and  functions  gradually  acquire  definiteness. 

§ 505.  Amid  much  that  is  too  indefinite  for  generalization, 
a few  tolerably  constant  traits  of  ministers,  and  traits  of 
ministries,  may  be  briefly  indicated. 

That  a trusted  agent  commonly  acquires  power  over  his 
principal,  is  a fact  everywhere  observable.  Even  in  a gen- 
tleman’s household  a head  servant  of  long  standing  not 
unfrequently  gains  such  influence,  that  his  master  is  in 


446 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


various  matters  guided  by  him — almost  controlled  by  him. 
With  chief  officers  of  State  it  has  often  been  the  same ; and 
especially  where  hereditary  succession  is  well  established. 
A ruler  who,  young,  or  idle,  or  pleasure-seeking,  performs  his 
duties  by  proxy,  or  who,  through  personal  liking  or  entire 
trust,  is  led  to  transfer  his  authority,  presently  becomes  so 
ill  informed  concerning  affairs,  or  so  unused  to  modes  of  pro- 
cedure, as  to  be  almost  poAverless  in  the  hands  of  his  agent. 

Where  hereditary  succession  pervades  the  society  and  fixes 
its  organization,  there  is  sometimes  shown  a tendency  to 
inheritance,  not  of  the  rulership  only,  but  also  of  these 
offices  which  grow  into  deputy-rulerships.  Under  the  Nor- 
man dukes  before  the  Conquest,  the  places  of  seneschal, 
cup-bearer,  constable,  and  chamberlain,  were  “ hereditary 
grand  serjeanties.”  In  England  in  Henry  II.’s  time,  succes- 
sion to  the  posts  of  high-steward,  constable,  chamberlain,  and 
butler,  followed  from  father  to  son  in  the  houses  of  Leicester, 
Miles,  Yere,  and  Albini.  So  was  it  with  the  Scotch  in  King 
David’s  reign : “ the  offices  of  great  steward  and  high  constable 
had  become  hereditary  in  the  families  of  Stewart  and  De 
Morevil.”  And  then  in  Japan  the  principle  of  inheritance  of 
ministerial  position  had  so  established  itself  as  to  insure 
ministerial  supremacy.  In  these  cases  there  come 

into  play  influences  and  methods  like  those  which  conduce  to 
hereditary  kingship.  When,  as  during  the  later  feudal  period 
in  France,  we  see  efforts  made  to  fix  in  certain  lines  of 
descent,  the  chief  offices  of  State  (efforts  which,  in  that  case, 
sometimes  succeeded  and  sometimes  failed),  we  are  shown 
that  ministers  use  the  facilities  which  their  places  give  them, 
to  establish  succession  to  these  places  in  their  own  families, 
in  the  same  way  that  early  kings  do.  Just  as,  during  the 
stage  of  elective  kingship,  the  king  is  apt  to  use  the  advan- 
tages derived  from  his  position  to  secure  the  throne  for  his 
son,  by  getting  him  chosen  during  his  own  life,  and  thus  to 
initiate  hereditary  succession ; so  the  minister  who  has  been 
allowed  to  acquire  great  power,  is  prompted  to  employ  it  for 


MINISTRIES. 


447 


the  purpose  of  establishing  a monopoly  of  his  office  among 
his  own  descendants.  Generally  his  desire  is  effectually 
antagonized  by  that  of  the  ruler;  but  where,  as  in  Japan, 
seclusion  of  the  ruler  impedes  his  hold  on  affairs,  this  desire 
of  the  minister  takes  effect. 

Since  there  ever  tend  to  arise  these  struggles  between  a 
king  and  one  or  more  of  those  who  serve  him — since  his  efforts 
to  maintain  his  authority  are  sometimes  so  far  defeated  that 
lie  is  obliged  to  accept  assistants  who  are  hereditary ; there 
results  a jealousy  of  those  whose  interests  are  at  variance 
with  his  own,  and  an  endeavour  to  protect  himself  by  ex- 
cluding them  from  office.  There  comes  a motive  for  choosing 
as  ministers  men  who,  having  no  children,  cannot  found 
houses  which,  growing  powerful,  may  compete  for  supremacy ; 
and  hence  in  certain  times  the  preference  for  celibate  priests. 
Or,  from  allied  motives,  men  neither  clerical  nor  military  are 
selected;  as  in  France,  where  in  the  15th  and  17th  centuries, 
members  of  the  bourgeois  class  came  to  be  preferred.  A policy 
like  that  shown  in  the  befriending  of  towns  as  a set-off  against 
feudal  chiefs,  prompted  the  official  employment  of  citizens 
instead  of  nobles.  Under  other  conditions,  again,  there  is  a 
jealousy  of  ecclesiastics  and  an  exclusion  of  them  from  power. 
For  generations  before  the  time  of  Peter  the  Great,  the  head 
of  the  church  in  Eussia  was  “ considered  the  second  person  in 
the  empire ; he  was  consulted  on  all  State-affairs,  until  at 
length,  their  [his]  spiritual  pride  outrunning  all  decorum, 
venturing  upon,  and  even  attempting  to  control  the  sovereign 
power,  it  was  resolved  by  Peter  the  Great  to  abolish  the 
patriarchate  altogether.”  Between  Louis  XIY.  and  the  Pope, 
there  was  a conflict  for  supremacy  over  the  French  church ; 
and  on  more  occasions  than  one,  certain  of  the  clergy 
encouraged  “the  absolutist  pretensions  of  the  Eoman  Pontiffs 
the  result  being  that  such  prelates  as  held  office  were  those 
v/ho  subordinated  clerical  to  political  aims,  and  that  by 
Louis  XIY.,  after  1661,  “no  churchman  was  allowed  to  touch 
the  great  engine  of  State-go vernment,”  Among  ourselves  may 


448 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


be  traced,  if  less  clearly,  the  working  of  kindred  tendencies. 
During  the  15th  century,  “ clergymen  were  secretaries  of 
government,  the  privy  seals,  cabinet  councillors,  treasurers 
of  the  crown,  ambassadors,  commissioners  to  open  parlia- 
ment, and  to  Scotland;  presidents  of  the  king’s  council, 
supervisors  of  the  royal  works,  chancellors,  keepers  of  the 
records,  the  masters  of  the  rolls,  &c. but  with  antagonism  to 
the  Church  came  partial,  and  in  later  days  complete,  disappear- 
ance of  the  clerical  element  from  the  administration.  Under 
Henry  VIII.  the  King’s  secretary,  and  afterwards  the  chan- 
cellor, ceased  to  be  ecclesiastics ; while  of  the  council  of  six- 
teen executors  appointed  to  govern  during  the  minority  of 
his  son,  three  only  were  in  holy  orders.  And  though,  during 
a subsequent  temporary  revival  of  papal  influence,  there  was 
a re-acquirement  of  ministerial  position  by  priests,  they  after- 
wards again  ceased  to  be  chosen. 

Whether  a ruler  is  able  to  prevent  high  offices  of  State 
from  being  held  by  men  whose  ambitions  and  interests  he 
fears,  depends,  however,  upon  his  acquirement  of  adequate 
predominance.  A class  which,  being  powerful,  is  excluded 
as  therefore  dangerous,  being  still  more  powerful,  cannot  be 
excluded;  and  is  apt  either  to  monopolize  administrative 
functions  or  practically  to  dictate  the  choice  of  ministers.  In 
ancient  Egypt,  where  the  priesthood  was  pre-eminent  in 
influence,  the  administration  was  chiefly  officered  by  its 
members,  with  the  result  that  at  one  time  there  was  usurpa- 
tion of  the  kingship  by  priests ; and  the  days  during  which 
the  Catholic  church  was  most  powerful  throughout  Europe, 
were  the  days  during  which  high  political  posts  were  very 
generally  held  by  prelates.  In  other  cases  supremacy  of 
the  military  class  is  shown ; as  in  Japan,  where  soldiers  have 
habitually  been  the  ministers  and  practically  usurpers ; as  in 
feudal  England,  when  Henry  III.  was  obliged  by  the  barons 
to  accept  Hugh  Le  Despenser  as  chief  justiciary,  and  other 
nominees  as  officers  of  his  household  ; or  as  when,  in  the 
East,  down  to  our  own  time,  changes  of  ministry  are  insisted 


MINISTRIES. 


449 


on  by  the  soldiery.  Naturally  in  respect  of  these  administra- 
tive offices,  as  in  respect  of  all  other  places  of  power,  there 
arises  a conflict  between  the  chiefs  of  the  warrior  class,  who 
are  the  agents  of  the  terrestrial  ruler,  and  the  chiefs  of  the 
clerical  class,  who  profess  to  be  agents  of  the  celestial  ruler ; 
and  the  predominance  of  the  one  or  the  other  class,  is  in 
many  cases  implied  by  the  extent  to  which  it  fills  the  chief 
offices  of  State. 

Such  facts  show  us  that  where  there  has  not  yet  been 
established  any  regular  process  for  making  the  chief  advisers 
and  agents  of  the  ruler  into  authorized  exponents  of  public 
opinion,  there  nevertheless  occurs  an  irregular  process  by 
which  some  congruity  is  maintained  between  the  actions  of 
these  deputy  rulers  and  the  will  of  the  community ; or,  at 
any  rate,  the  will  of  that  part  which  can  express  its  will. 

§ 506.  Were  elaboration  desirable,  and  collection  of  the 
needful  data  less  difficult,  a good  deal  might  here  be  added 
respecting  the  development  of  ministries. 

Of  course  it  could,  in  multitudinous  cases,  be  shown 
how,  beginning  as  simple,  they  become  compound — the  soli- 
tary assistant  to  the  chief,  helping  him  in  all  ways,  develop- 
ing into  the  numerous  great  officers  of  the  king,  dividing 
among  them  duties  which  have  become  extensive  and  in- 
volved. Along  with  this  differentiation  of  a ministry  might 
also  be  traced  the  integration  of  it  that  takes  place  under 
certain  conditions : the  observable  change  being  from  a state 
in  which  the  departmental  officers  separately  take  from  the 
ruler  their  instructions,  to  a state  in  which  they  form  an 
incorporated  body.  There  might  be  pursued  an  inquiry 
respecting  the  conditions  under  which  this  incorporated  body 
gains  power  and  accompanying  responsibility ; with  the  pro- 
bable  result  of  showing  that  development  of  an  active 
executive  council,  and  accompanying  reduction  of  the  original 
executive  head  to  an  automatic  state,  characterizes  that  re- 
presentative form  of  government  proper  to  the  industrial 


450 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


type.  But  while  results  neither  definite  nor  important  are 
likely  to  he  reached,  the  reaching  of  such  as  are  promised 
would  necessitate  investigation  at  once  tedious  and  unsatis- 
factory. 

For  such  ends  as  are  here  in  view,  it  suffices  to  recognize 
the  general  facts  above  set  forth.  As  the  political  head  is  at 
first  but  a slightly-distinguished  member  of  the  group — now 
a chief  whose  private  life  and  resources  are  like  those  of  any 
other  warrior,  now  a patriarch  or  a feudal  lord  who,  becoming 
predominant  over  other  patriarchs  or  other  feudal  lords,  at  first 
lives  like  them  on  revenues  derived  from  private  possessions 
— so  the  assistants  of  the  political  head  take  their  rise  from 
the  personal  connexions,  friends,  servants,  around  him  : they 
are  those  who  stand  to  him  in  private  relations  of  blood,  or 
liking,  or  service.  With  the  extension  of  territory,  the  in- 
crease of  affairs,  and  the  growth  of  classes  having  special 
interests,  there  come  into  play  influences  which  differentiate 
some  of  those  wdio  surround  the  ruler  into  public  functionaries, 
distinguished  from  members  of  his  family  and  his  household. 
And  these  influences,  joined  with  special  circumstances,  de- 
termine the  kinds  of  public  men  who  come  into  power. 
Where  the  absoluteness  of  the  political  head  is  little  or  not 
at  all  restrained,  he  makes  arbitrary  choice  irrespective  of 
rank,  occupation,  or  origin.  If,  being  predominant,  there  are 
nevertheless  classes  of  whom  he  is  jealous,  exclusion  of  these 
becomes  his  policy ; while  if  his  predominance  is  inadequate, 
representatives  of  such  classes  are  forced  into  office.  And 
this  foreshadows  the  system  under  which,  along  with  decline 
of  monarchical  power,  there  grows  up  an  incorporated  body 
of  ministers  having  for  its  recognized  function  to  execute 
the  public  will. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 

§ 507.  This  title  is  needed  because  the  classes  of  facts  to 
be  here  dealt  with,  cover  a wider  area  than  those  comprehended 
under  the  title  “ Local  Governments.” 

We  have  to  deal  with  two  kinds  of  appliances  for  control, 
originally  one  but  gradually  becoming  distinguished.  Alike 
among  peoples  characterized  by  the  reckoning  of  kinship 
through  females,  and  among  peoples  characterized  by  descent 
of  property  and  power  through  males,  the  regulative  system 
based  on  blood-relationship  is  liable  to  be  involved  with,  and 
subordinated  by,  a regulative  system  originating  from  military 
leadership.  Authority  established  by  triumph  in  war,  not 
unfrequently  comes  into  conflict  with  authority  derived  from 
the  law  of  succession,  when  this  has  become  partially  settled, 
and  initiates  a differentiation  of  political  headship  from  family 
headship.  We  have  seen  that,  from  primitive  stages  upwards, 
the  principle  of  efficiency  and  the  principle  of  inheritance  are 
both  at  work  in  determining  men’s  social  positions;  and  where, 
as  happens  in  many  cases,  a war-chief  is  appointed  when  the 
occasion  arises,  notwithstanding  the  existence  of  a chief  of 
acknowledged  legitimacy,  there  is  a tendency  for  transmitted 
power  to  be  over-ridden  by  power  derived  from  capacity. 
From  the  beginning,  then,  there  is  apt  to  grow  up  a species  of 
government  distinct  from  family-government ; and  the  apti- 
tude takes  effect  where  many  family-groups,  becoming  united. 


452 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


carry  on  militant  activities.  The  growth  of  the  family  into 
the  gens,  of  the  gens  into  the  phratry,  of  the  phratry  into  the 
tribe,  implies  the  multiplication  of  groups  more  and  more 
remotely  akin,  and  less  and  less  easily  subordinated  by  the 
head  of  some  nominally-leading  group ; and  when  local  aggre- 
gation brings  interfusion  of  tribes  which,  though  of  the  same 
stock,  have  lost  their  common  genealogy,  the  rise  of  some 
headship  other  than  the  headships  of  family-groups  becomes 
imminent.  Though  such  political  headship,  passing  through 
the  elective  stage,  often  becomes  itself  inheritable  after  the 
same  manner  as  the  original  family-headships,  yet  it  consti- 
tutes a new  kind  of  headship. 

Of  the  local  governing  agencies  to  which  family-headships 
and  political  headships  give  origin,  as  groups  become  com- 
pounded and  re-compounded,  we  will  consider  first  the  poli- 
tical, as  being  most  directly  related  to  the  central  governing 
agencies  hitherto  dealt  with. 

o 


§ 508.  According  to  the  relative  powers  of  conqueror  and 
conquered,  war  establishes  various  degrees  of  subordination. 
Here  the  payment  of  tribute  and  occasional  expression  of 
homage,  interfere  but  little  with  political  independence ; and 
there  political  independence  is  almost  or  quite  lost.  Generally, 
however,  at  the  outset  the  victor  either  finds  it  necessary  to 
respect  the  substantial  autonomies  of  the  vanquished  societies, 
or  finds  it  his  best  policy  to  do  this.  Hence,  before  inte- 
gration has  proceeded  far,  local  governments  are  usually 
nothing  more  than  those  governments  of  the  parts  which 
existed  before  they  were  united  into  a whole. 

We  find  instances  of  undecided  subordination  everywhere. 
In  Tahiti  “ the  actual  influence  of  the  king  over  the  haughty 
and  despotic  district  chieftains,  was  neither  powerful  nor 
permanent.,,  Of  our  own  political  organization  in  old  English 
times  Kemble  writes  : — “ the  whole  executive  government 
may  be  considered  as  a great  aristocratic  association,  of  which 
the  ealdormen  were  the  constituent  earls,  and  the  king  little 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


453 


more  than  president”  Similarly  during  early  feudal  times  ; 
as,  for  example,  in  France.  “ Under  the  first  Capetians,  we 
find  scarcely  any  general  act  of  legislation.  . . . Everything 
was  local,  and  all  the  possessors  of  fiefs  first,  and  afterwards 
all  the  great  suzerains,  possessed  the  legislative  power  within 
their  domains.”  This  is  the  kind  of  relation  habitually  seen 
during  the  initial  stages  of  those  clustered  groups  in  which 
one  group  has  acquired  power  over  the  rest. 

In  cases  where  the  successful  invader,  external  to  the  cluster 
instead  of  internal,  is  powerful  enough  completely  to  subju- 
gate all  the  groups,  it  still  happens  that  the  pre-existing  local 
organizations  commonly  survive.  Ancient  American  states 
yield  examples.  “ When  the  kings  of  Mexico,  Tezcuco,  and 
Tacuba  conquered  a province,  they  used  to  maintain  in  their 
authority  all  the  natural  chiefs,  the  highest  as  well  as  the 
lower  ones.”  Concerning  certain  rulers  of  Chibcha  com- 
munities, who  became  subject  to  Bogota,  we  read  that  the 
Zipa  subdued  them,  but  left  them  their  jurisdiction  and  left 
the  succession  to  the  caziqueship  in  their  families.  And  as 
was  pointed  out  under  another  head,  the  victorious  Yncas 
left  outstanding  the  political  headships  and  administrations  of 
the  many  small  societies  they  consolidated.  Such  is,  in  fact, 
the  most  convenient  policy.  As  is  remarked  by  Sir  Henry 
Maine,  “ certain  institutions  of  a primitive  people,  their  cor- 
porations and  village-communities,  will  always  be  preserved 
by  a suzerain-state  governing  them,  on  account  of  the  facilities 
which  they  afford  to  civil  and  fiscal  administration and  the 
like  may  be  said  of  the  larger  regulative  structures.  Indeed 
the  difficulty  of  suddenly  replacing  an  old  local  organization 
by  an  entirely  new  one,  is  so  great  that  almost  of  necessity  the 
old  one  is  in  large  measure  retained. 

The  autonomies  of  local  governments,  thus  sometimes 
scarcely  at  all  interfered  with  and  in  other  cases  but  partially 
suppressed,  manifest  themselves  in  various  ways.  The 
original  independence  of  groups  continues  to  be  shown 
by  the  right  of  private  war  between  them.  They  retain  their 


454 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


local  gods,  their  ecclesiastical  organizations,  their  religious 
festivals.  And  in  time  of  general  war  the  contingents  they 
severally  furnish  remain  separate.  Egyptian  nomes,  Greek 
cities,  feudal  lordships,  yield  illustrations. 

§ 509.  The  gradual  disappearance  of  local  autonomies  is 
a usual  outcome  of  the  struggle  between  the  governments  of 
the  parts,  which  try  to  retain  their  powers,  and  the  central 
government,  which  tries  to  diminish  their  powers. 

In  proportion  as  his  hands  are  strengthened,  chiefly  by 
successful  wars,  the  major  political  head  increases  his 
restraints  over  the  minor  political  heads  ; first  by  stopping 
private  wars  among  them,  then  by  interfering  as  arbitrator, 
then  by  acquiring  an  appellate  jurisdiction.  Where  the  local 
rulers  have  been  impoverished  by  their  struggles  with  one 
another,  or  by  futile  attempts  to  recover  their  independence, 
or  by  drafts  made  on  their  resources  for  external  wars — where, 
also,  followers  of  the  central  ruler  have  grown  into  a new  order 
of  nobles,  with  gifts  of  conquered  or  usurped  lands  as  rewards 
for  services ; the  way  is  prepared  for  administrative  agencies 
centrally  appointed.  Thus  in  France,  when  the  monarch 
became  dominant,  the  seigneurs  were  gradually  deprived  of 
legislative  authority.  Eoyal  confirmation  became  requisite 
to  make  signorial  acts  valid ; and  the  crown  acquired  the 
exclusive  right  of  granting  charters,  the  exclusive  right  of 
ennobling,  the  exclusive  right  of  coining.  Then  with  decline 
in  the  power  of  the  original  local  rulers  came  deputies  of  the 
king  overlooking  them  : provincial  governors  holding  office  at 
the  king’s  pleasure  were  nominated.  In  subsequent  periods 
grew  up  the  administration  of  intendants  and  their  sub-dele- 
gates, acting  as  agents  of  the  crown ; and  whatever  small  local 
powers  remained  were  exercised  under  central  supervision. 
English  history  at  various  stages  yields  kindred  illustrations. 
When  Mercia  was  formed  out  of  petty  kingdoms,  the  local 
kings  became  ealdormen;  and  a like  change  took  place 
afterwards  on  a larger  scale.  “ From  the  time  of  Ecgberht 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


455 


onwards  there  is  a marked  distinction  between  the  King  and 
the  Ealdorman.  The  King  is  a sovereign,  the  Ealdorman 
is  only  a magistrate/’  Just  noting  that  under  Cnut,  eal- 
dormen  became  subordinated  by  the  appointment  of  earls, 
and  again  that  under  William  I.  earldoms  were  filled  up  afresh, 
we  observe  that  after  the  Wars  of  the  Eoses  had  weak- 
ened them,  the  hereditary  nobles  had  their  local  powers  inter- 
fered with  by  those  of  centrally-appointed  lords-lieutenant. 
Not  only  provincial  governing  agencies  of  a personal  kind 
come  to  be  thus  subordinated  as  the  integration  furthered  by 
war  progresses,  but  also  those  of  a popular  kind.  The  old 
English  Scirgerefa,  who  presided  over  the  Sciregemot,  was  at 
first  elective,  but  was  afterwards  nominated  by  the  king. 
Under  a later  regime  there  occurred  a kindred  change: 
“ 9 Edward  II.  abolished  the  popular  right  to  election”  to  the 
office  of  sheriff.  And  similarly,  “from  the  beginning  of 
Edward  III/s  reign,  the  appointment  of  conservators  ” of  the 
peace,  who  were  originally  elected,  “ was  vested  in  the  crown,” 
“ and  their  title  changed  to  that  of  justices.” 

With  sufficient  distinctness  such  facts  show  us  that,  rapidly 
where  a cluster  of  small  societies  is  subjugated  by  an 
invader,  and  slowly  where  one  among  them  acquires  an 
established  supremacy,  the  local  rulers  lose  their  directive 
powers  and  become  executive  agents  only ; discharging  what- 
ever duties  they  retain  as  the  servants  of  newer  local  agents. 
In  the  course  of  political  integration,  the  original  governing 
centres  of  the  component  parts  become  relatively  automatic 
in  their  functions. 

§ 510.  A further  truth  to  be  noted  is  that  there  habitually 
exists  a kinship  in  structure  between  the  general  government 
and  the  local  governments.  Several  causes  conspire  to  pro- 
duce this  kinship. 

Where  one  of  a cluster  of  groups  has  acquired  power 
over  the  rest,  either  directly  by  the  victories  of  its  ruler 
over  them,  or  indirectly  by  his  successful  leadership  of 


456 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  confederation  in  war,  this  kinship  becomes  a matter  of 
course.  For  under  such  conditions  the  general  government 
is  but  a development  of  that  which  was  previously  one  of 
the  local  governments.  We  have  a familiar  illustration 
furnished  by  old  English  times  in  the  likeness  between  the 
hundred-moot  (a  small  local  governing  assembly),  the 
shire-moot  (constituted  in  an  analogous  way,  but  having 
military,  judicial,  and  fiscal  duties  of  a wider  kind,  and 
headed  by  a chief  originally  elected),  and  the  national 
witanagemot  (containing  originally  the  same  class-elements, 
though  in  different  proportions,  headed  by  a king,  also  at  first 
elected,  and  discharging  like  functions  on  a larger  scale). 
This  similarity  recurs  under  another  phase.  Sir  Henry  Maine 
says  : — 

“ It  has  often,  indeed,  been  noticed  that  a Feudal  Monarchy  was  an 
exact  counterpart  of  a Feudal  Manor,  but  the  reason  of  the  correspon- 
dence is  only  now  beginning  to  dawn  upon  us,  which  is,  that  both  of 
them  were  in  their  origin  bodies  of  assumed  kinsmen  settled  on  land 
and  undergoing  the  same  transmutation  of  ideas  through  the  fact  of 
settlement.” 

Of  France  in  the  early  feudal  period,  Maury  says,  “the 
court  of  every  great  feudatory,  was  the  image,  of  course 
slightly  reduced,  of  that  of  the  king and  the  facts  he  names 
curiously  show  that  locally,  as  generally,  there  was  a develop- 
ment of  servants  into  ministerial  officers.  Kindred  evidence 
comes  from  other  parts  of  the  world — Japan,  several  African 
States,  sundry  Polynesian  islands,  ancient  Mexico,  Mediaeval 
India,  &c. ; where  forms  of  society  essentially  similar  to  those 
of  the  feudal  system  exist  or  have  existed. 

Where  the  local  autonomy  has  been  almost  or  quite 
destroyed,  as  by  a powerful  invading  race  bringing  with  it 
another  type  of  organization,  we  still  see  the  same  thing;  for 
its  tendency  is  to  modify  the  institutions  locally  as  it 
modifies  them  generally.  From  early  times  eastern  king- 
doms have  shown  us  this ; as  instance  the  provincial  rulers, 
or  satraps,  of  the  Persians.  “ While  . . . they  remained  in 
office  they  were  despotic — they  represented  the  Great  King, 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


457 


and  were  clothed  with  a portion  of  his  majesty,  . . . They 
wielded  the  power  of  life  and  death.”  And  down  to  the 
present  day  this  union  of  central  chief- despot  with  local  sub- 
despots survives ; as  is  implied  by  Eawlinson’s  remark  that 
these  ancient  satraps  had  “ that  full  and  complete  authority 
which  is  possessed  by  Turkish  pashas  and  modem  Persian 
khans  or  beys — an  authority  practically  uncontrolled.”  Other 
ancient  societies  of  quite  other  types  displayed  this  tendency 
to  assimilate  the  structures  of  the  incorporated  parts  to  that 
of  the  incorporating  whole.  Grecian  history  shows  us  that 
oligarchic  Sparta  sought  to  propagate  oligarchy  as  a form  of 
government  in  dependent  territories,  while  democratic  Athens 
propagated  the  democratic  form.  And,  similarly,  where 
Pome  conquered  and  colonized,  there  followed  the  Eoman 
municipal  system. 

This  last  instance  reminds  us  that  as  the  character  of  the 
general  government  changes,  the  character  of  the  local 
government  changes  too.  In  the  Eoman  empire  that  progress 
towards  a more  concentrated  form  of  rule  which  con- 
tinued militancy  brought,  spread  from  centre  to  periphery. 
“ Under  the  Kepublic  every  town  had,  like  Eome,  a popular 
assembly  which  was  sovereign  for  making  the  law  and  ‘ creat- 
ing’magistrates;  ” but  with  the  change  towards  oligarchic 
and  personal  rule  in  Eome,  popular  power  in  the  provinces 
decreased : “ the  municipal  organization,  from  being  demo- 
cratic, became  aristocratic.”  In  France,  as  monarchical  power 
approached  absoluteness,  similar  changes  were  effected  in 
another  way.  The  government  seized  on  municipal  offices, 
“ erecting  them  into  hereditary  offices,  and  . . . selling  them 
at  the  highest  price : . . . a permanent  mayor  and  assessors 
were  imposed  upon  all  the  municipalities  of  the  kingdom,  which 
ceased  to  be  elective  ; ” and  then  these  magistrates  began  to 
assume  royal  airs — spoke  of  the  sanctity  of  their  magistracy, 
the  veneration  of  the  people,  &c.  Our  own  history  interest- 
ingly shows  simultaneous  movements  now  towards  freer,  and 
now  towards  less  free,  forms,  locally  and  generally.  When, 


458 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


under  King  John,  the  central  government  was  liberalized, 
towns  acquired  the  power  to  elect  their  own  magistrates. 
Conversely  when,  at  the  Eestoration,  monarchical  power 
increased,  there  was  a framing  of  the  “ municipalities  on  a 
more  oligarchical  model.”  And  then  comes  the  familiar  case 
of  the  kindred  liberalizations  of  the  central  government 
and  the  local  governments  which  have  occurred  in  our  own 
time. 

§ 511.  From  those  local  governing  agencies  which  have 
acquired  a political  character,  we  turn  now  to  those  which 
have  retained  the  primitive  family  character.  Though  with 
the  massing  of  groups,  political  organization  and  rule  become 
separate  from,  and  predominant  over,  family-organization 
and  rule,  locally  as  well  as  generally,  yet  family-  organization 
and  rule  do  not  disappear  ; but  in  some  cases  retaining  their 
orginal  nature,  in  some  cases  give  origin  to  other  local 
organizations  of  a governmental  kind.  Let  us  first  note  how 
wide-spread  is  the  presence  of  the  family-cluster,  considered 
as  a component  of  the  political  society. 

Among  the  uncivilized  Bedouins  we  see  it  existing  sepa- 
rately : “ every  large  family  with  its  relations  constituting  a 
small  tribe  by  itself.”  But,  says  Palgrave,  “ though  the  clan 
and  the  family  form  the  basis  and  are  the  ultimate  expression 
of  the  civilized  Arab  society,  they  do  not,  as  is  the  case 
among  the  Bedouins,  sum  it  up  altogether.”  That  is,  political 
union  has  left  outstanding  the  family-organization,  but  has 
added  something  to  it.  And  it  was  thus  with  Semitic  societies 
of  early  days,  as  those  of  the  Hebrews.  Everywhere  it  has 
been  thus  with  the  Ayrans. 

1 The  [Irish]  Sept  is  a body  of  kinsmen  whose  progenitor  is  no  longer 
living,  but  whose  descent  from  him  is  a reality.  . . . An  association  of 
this  sort  is  well  known  to  the  law  of  India  as  the  Joint  Undivided 
Family.  . . . The  family  thus  formed  by  the  continuance  of  several 
generations  in  union,  is  identical  in  outline  with  a group  very  familiar 
to  the  students  of  the  older  Eoman  law — the  Agnatic  Kindred.” 

Hot  only  where  descent  in  the  male  line  has  been  established, 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


459 


but  also  where  the  system  of  descent  through  females  con- 
tinues, this  development  of  the  family  into  gens,  pliratry, 
and  tribe,  is  found.  It  was  so  with  such  ancient  American 
peoples,  as  those  of  Yucatan,  where,  within  each  town,  tribal 
divisions  were  maintained  ; and,  according  to  Mr.  Morgan 
and  Major  Powell,  it  is  still  so  with  such  American  tribes  as 
the  Iroquois  and  the  Wyandottes. 

After  its  inclusion  in  a political  aggregate,  as  before  its  in- 
clusion, the  family-group  evolves  a government  jwasi-political 
in  nature.  According  to  the  type  of  race  and  the  system 
of  descent,  this  family-government  may  be,  as  among  ancient 
Semites  and  Ayrans,  an  unqualified  patriarchal  despotism ; or 
it  may  be,  as  among  the  Hindoos  at  present,  a personal  rule 
arising  by  selection  of  a head  from  the  leading  family  of  the 
group  (a  selection  usually  falling  on  the  eldest) ; or  it  may 
be,  as  in  American  tribes  like  those  mentioned,  the  govern- 
ment of  an  elected  council  of  the  gens,  which  elects  its  chief. 
That  is  to  say,  the  triune  structure  which  tends  to  arise  in 
any  incorporated  assembly,  is  traceable  in  the  compound 
family-group,  as  in  the  political  group : the  respective  com- 
ponents of  it  being  variously  developed  according  to  the 
nature  of  the  people  and  the  conditions. 

The  government  of  each  aggregate  of  kinsmen  repeats, 
on  a small  scale,  functions  like  those  of  the  government  of 
the  political  aggregate.  As  the  entire  society  revenges  itself 
on  other  such  societies  for  injury  to  its  members,  so  does  the 
family-cluster  revenge  itself  on  other  family-clusters  included 
in  the  same  society.  This  fact  is  too  familiar  to  need  illus- 
tration ; but  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  even  now,  in  parts  of 
Europe  where  the  family-organization  survives,  the  family 
vendettas  persist.  “ L’Albanais  vous  dira  froidement  . . . 
Akeni-Dgiak?  avez-vous  du  sang  a venger  dans  votre 
famille and  then,  asking  the  name  of  your  tribe,  he  puts  his 
hand  on  his  pistol.  With  this  obligation  to  take  vengeance 
goes,  of  course,  reciprocal  responsibility.  The  family  in  all 
its  branches  is  liable  as  a whole,  and  in  each  part,  for  the 


460 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


injuries  done  by  its  members  to  members  of  other  families ; 
just  as  the  entire  society  is  held  liable  by  other  entire 
societies.  This  responsibility  holds  not  alone  for  lives  taken 
by  members  of  the  family-group,  but  also  for  damages  they 
do  to  property,  and  for  pecuniary  claims, 

“ Dans  les  districts  Albanais  libres,  les  dettes  sont  contractces  a terme. 
En  cas  de  non-paiement,  on  a recours  aux  chefs  de  la  tribu  du 
debiteur,  et  si  cenx-ci  refusent  de  faire  droit,  on  arrete  le  premier 
venu  qui  appartient  a cette  tribn,  et  on  Faccable  de  manvais  traitements 
jusqu’a  ce  qu’il  s’entende  avec  le  veritable  debiteur,  ou  quJil  paie  lui- 
meme  ses  dettes,  risque  a se  pouvoir  ensuite  devant  les  anciens  de  sa 
tribu  ou  de  poursuivre  par  les  armes  celui  qui  lui  a valu  ce  dommage,” 

And  of  the  old  English  msegth  we  read  that  “ if  any  one  was 
imprisoned  for  theft,  witchcraft,  &c.,  his  kindred  must  pay 
the  fine  . . . and  must  become  surety  for  his  good  conduct 
on  his  release/’ 

While,  within  the  political  aggregate,  each  compound 
family-group  thus  stood  towards  other  such  included  groups 
in  quasi-political  relations,  its  government  exercised  internal 
control.  In  the  gens  as  constituted  among  the  American 
peoples  above  named,  there  is  administration  of  affairs  by  its 
council.  The  gentile  divisions  among  historic  peoples  were 
ruled  by  their  patriarchs ; as  are  still  those  of  the  Hindoos  by 
their  chosen  elders.  And  then  besides  this  judicial  organi- 
zation within  the  assemblage  of  kindred,  there  is  the  religious 
organization,  arising  from  worship  of  a common  ancestor, 
which  entails  periodic  joint  observances. 

Thus  the  evidence  shows  us  that  while  the  massing 
together  of  groups  by  war,  has,  for  its  concomitant,  develop- 
ment of  a political  organization  which  dominates  over  the 
organizations  of  communities  of  kindred,  yet  these  com- 
munities of  kindred  long  survive,  and  partially  retain  their 
autonomies  and  their  constitutions. 

§ 512.  Social  progress,*  however,  transforms  them  in  sundry 
ways — differentiating  them  into  groups  which  gradually  lose 
their  family-characters.  One  cause  is  change  from  the  wander- 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


461 


ing  life  to  tlie  settled  life,  with  the  implied  establishment  of 
definite  relations  to  the  land,  and  the  resulting  multipli- 
cation and  interfusion. 

To  show  that  this  process  and  its  consequences  are 
general,  I may  name  the  calpulli  of  the  ancient  Mexicans, 
which  “ means  a district  inhabited  by  a family  ...  of  ancient 
origin  ; ” whose  members  hold  estates  which  “ belong  not  to 
each  inhabitant,  but  to  the  calpulli ; ” who  have  chiefs  chosen 
out  of  the  tribe ; and  who  “ meet  for  dealing  with  the  com- 
mon interests,  and  regulating  the  apportionment  of  taxes,  and 
also  what  concerns  the  festivals.”  And  then  I may  name 
as  being  remote  in  place,  time,  and  race,  the  still-existing 
Russian  mir,  or  village-commune ; which  is  constituted  by 
descendants  of  the  same  family-group  of  nomads  who  became 
settled ; which  is  “ a judicial  corporation  . . . proprietor  of 
the  soil,  of  which  individual  members  have  but  the  usufruct 
or  temporary  enjoyment;”  which  is  governed  by  “ the  heads 
of  families,  assembled  in  council  under  the  presidency  of  the 
s tarosta  or  mayor,  whom  they  have  elected.”  Just  noting  these 
allied  examples,  we  may  deal  more  especially  with  the  Teu- 
tonic mark,  which  was  “ formed  by  a primitive  settlement  of 
a family  or  kindred,”  when,  as  said  by  Caesar  of  the  Suevi, 
the  land  was  divided  among  “ gentes  et  cognationes  homi- 
num.”  In  the  words  of  Kemble,  marks  were — 

“ Great  family-unions,  comprising  households  of  various  degrees  of 
wealth,  rank,  and  authority ; some  in  direct  descent  from  the  common 
ancestors,  or  from  the  hero  of  the  particular  tribe  ; others,  more  dis- 
tantly connected  . . . ; some,  admitted  into  communion  by  marriage, 
others  by  adoption,  others  by  emancipation ; but  all  recognizing  a 
brotherhood,  a kinsmanship  or  sibsceaft ; all  standing  together  as  one 
unit  in  respect  of  other  similar  communities  ; all  governed  by  the  same 
judges  and  led  by  the  same  captains  ; all  sharing  in  the  same  religious 
rites ; and  all  known  to  themselves  and  to  their  neighbours  by  one 
general  name.” 

To  which  add  that,  in  common  with  family-groups  as  already 
described,  the  cluster  of  kindred  constituting  the  mark  had, 
like  both  smaller  and  larger  clusters,  a joint  obligation  to 


462 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


defend  and  avenge  its  members,  and  a joint  responsibility  for 
their  actions. 

And  now  we  are  prepared  for  observing  sundry  influences 
which  conspire  to  change  the  grouping  of  kindred  into  poli- 
tical grouping,  locally  as  well  as  generally.  In  the  first  place, 
there  is  that  admission  of  strangers  into  the  family,  gens,  or 
tribe,  which  we  have  before  recognized  as  a normal  process, 
from  savage  life  upwards.  Livingstone,  remarking  of  the 
Bakwains  that  “ the  government  is  patriarchal/’  describes 
each  chief  man  as  having  his  hut  encircled  by  the  huts  of  his 
wives,  relatives,  and  dependents,  forming  a kotla : “ a poor 
man  attaches  himself  to  the  kotla  of  a rich  one  and  is  con- 
sidered a child  of  the  latter.”  Here  we  see  being  done 
informally,  that  which  was  formally  done  in  the  Roman 
household  and  the  Teutonic  mark.  In  proportion  as  the 
adopted  strangers  increase,  and  in  proportion  also  as  the 
cluster  becomes  diluted  by  incorporating  with  Itself  emanci- 
pated dependents,  the  links  among  its  members  become 
weakened  and  its  character  altered.  In  the  second  place, 
when,  by  concentration  and  multiplication,  different  clusters 
of  kindred  placed  side  by  side,  become  interspersed,  and  there 
ceases  to  be  a direct  connexion  between  locality  and  kinship, 
the  family  or  gentile  bonds  are  further  weakened.  And  then 
there  eventually  results,  both  for  military  and  fiscal  pur- 
poses, the  need  for  a grouping  based  on  locality  instead  of  on 
relationship.  An  early  illustration  is  furnished  by  the 
Kleisthenian  revolution  in  Attica,  which  made  a division  of 
the  territory  into  demes,  replacing  for  public  purposes  tribal 
divisions  by  topographical  divisions,  the  inhabitants  of  each 
of  which  had  local  administrative  powers  and  public  respon- 
sibilities. 

We  are  here  brought  to  the  vexed  question  about  the  origin 
of  tythings  and  hundreds.  It  was  pointed  out  that  the 
ancient  Peruvians  had  civil  as  well  as  military  divisions 
into  tens  and  hundreds,  with  their  respective  officers.  In 
China,  where  there  is  pushed  to  an  extreme  the  principle  of 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


463 


making  groups  responsible  for  their  members,  the  clan-divi- 
sions are  not  acknowledged  by  the  government,  but  only  the 
tytliings  and  hundreds  : the  implication  being  that  these  last 
were  results  of  political  organization  as  distinguished  from 
family-organization.  In  parts  of  Japan,  too,  “ there  is  a sort  of 
subordinate  system  of  wards,  and  heads  of  tens  and  hundreds, 
in  the  Otonos  of  towns  and  villages,  severally  and  collectively 
responsible  for  each  other’s  good  conduct.”  We  have  seen 
that  in  Eome,  the  groupings  into  hundreds  and  tens,  civil 
as  well  as  military,  became  political  substitutes  for  the 
gentile  groupings.  Under  the  Frankish  law,  “ the  tything- 
man  is  Decanus , the  hundred-man  Centenarius ; ” and  what- 
ever may  have  been  their  indigenous  names,  divisions  into 
tens  and  hundreds  appear  to  have  had  (judging  from  the  state- 
ments of  Tacitus)  an  independent  origin  among  the  Germanic 
races. 

And  now  remembering  that  these  hundreds  and  tytliings, 
formed  within  the  marks  or  other  large  divisions,  still 
answered  in  considerable  degrees  to  groups  based  on  kinship 
(since  the  heads  of  families  of  which  they  were  constituted  as 
local  groups,  were  ordinarily  closer  akin  to  one  another 
than  to  the  heads  of  families  similarly  grouped  in  other  parts 
of  the  mark),  we  go  on  to  observe  that  there  survived  in 
them,  or  were  re-developed  in  them,  the  family-organization, 
rights,  and  obligations.  I do  not  mean  merely  that  by 
their  hundred-moots,  &c.,  they  had  their  internal  administra- 
tions ; but  I mean  chiefly  that  they  became  groups  which 
had  towards  other  groups  the  same  joint  claims  and  duties 
which  family-groups  had.  Responsibility  for  its  members, 
previously  attaching  exclusively  to  the  cluster  of  kindred 
irrespective  of  locality,  was  in  a large  measure  transferred  to 
the  local  cluster  formed  but  partially  of  kindred.  For  this 
transfer  of  responsibility  an  obvious  cause  arose  as  the 
gentes  and  tribes  spread  and  became  mingled.  While  the 
family-community  was  small  and  closely  aggregated,  an  offence 
committed  by  one  of  its  members  against  another  such  com- 


464 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


munity  could  usually  be  brought  home  to  it  bodily,  if  not 
to  the  sinning  member;  and  as  a whole  it  had  to  take 
the  consequences.  But  when  the  family-community,  multi- 
plying, began  to  occupy  a wide  area,  and  also  became  inter- 
fused with  other  family-communities,  the  transgressor,  while 
often  traceable  to  some  one  locality  within  the  area,  was 
often  not  identifiable  as  of  this  or  that  kindred;  and  the  con- 
sequences of  his  act,  when  they  could  not  be  visited  on  his 
family,  which  was  not  known,  were  apt  to  be  visited  on  the 
inhabitants  of  the  locality,  who  were  known.  Hence  the 
genesis  of  a system  of  suretyship  which  is  so  ancient  and 
so  widespread.  Here  are  illustrations : — 

“This  then  is  my  will,  that  every  man  be  in  surety,  both  within  the 
towns  and  without  the  towns.” — Eadg.  ii.  Supp.  § 3. 

“ And  we  will  that  every  freeman  be  brought  into  a hundred  and  into 
a tithing,  who  desires  to  be  entitled  to  lad  or  wer , in  case  any  one  should 
slay  him  after  he  have  reached  the  age  of  xii  years : or  let  him  not  other- 
wise be  entitled  to  any  free  rights,  be  he  householder,  be  he  follower.” — 
Cnut,  ii.  § xx. 

“ ...  in  all  the  vills  throughout  the  kingdom,  all  men  are  bound  to  be 
in  a guarantee  by  tens,  so  that  if  one  of  the  ten  men  offend,  the  other 
nine  may  hold  him  to  right.” — Edw.  Conf.,  xx. 

Speaking  generally  of  this  system  of  mutual  guarantee,  as 
exhibited  among  the  Russians,  as  well  as  among  the  Franks, 
Koutorga  says — 

“ Tout  membre  de  la  societe  devait  entrer  dans  une  decanie,  laquelle 
avait  pour  mission  la  defence  et  la  garantie  de  tous  en  general  et  de 
chacun  en  particular  ; c’est-ei-dire  que  la  decanie  devait  venger  le  citoyen 
qui  lui  appartenait  et  exiger  le  w^ehrgeld,  s’il  avait  ete  tue ; mais  en 
meme  temps  elle  se  portait  caution  pour  tous  les  seins.” 

In  brief,  then,  this  form  of  local  governing  agency, 
developing  out  of,  and  partially  replacing,  the  primitive 
family-form,  was  a natural  concomitant  of  the  multiplication 
and  mixture  resulting  from  a settled  life. 

§ 513.  There  remains  to  be  dealt  with  an  allied  kind  of  local 
governing  agency — a kind  which,  appearing  to  have  been 
once  identical  with  the  last,  eventually  diverged  from  it. 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


465 


Kemble  concludes  that  the  word  “ gegyldan  ” means 
" those  who  mutually  pay  for  one  another  . . . the  associates 
of  the  tithing  and  the  hundred;”  and  how  the  two  were 
originally  connected,  we  are  shown  by  the  statement  that  as 
late  as  the  10th  century  in  London,  the  citizens  were  united 
into  frithgylds,  “ or  associations  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
peace,  each  consisting  of  ten  men ; while  ten  such  gylds 
were  gathered  into  a hundred.”  Prof.  Stubbs  writes  : — 

"The  collective  responsibility  for  producing  an  offender,  which  had 
lain  originally  on  the  msegth  or  kindred  of  the  accused,  was  gradually 
devolved  on  the  voluntary  association  of  the  guild ; and  the  guild  super- 
seded by  the  local  responsibility  of  the  tithing.” 

Here  we  have  to  ask  whether  there  are  not  grounds  for  con- 
cluding that  this  transfer  of  responsibility  originally  took 
place  through  development  of  the  family-cluster  into  the 
gild,  in  consequence  of  the  gradual  loss  of  the  family-cha- 
racter by  incorporation  of  unrelated  members.  That  we  do 
not  get  evidence  of  this  in  written  records,  is  probably  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  earlier  stages  of  the  change  took  place 
before  records  were  common.  But  we  shall  see  reasons  fox 
believing  in  such  earlier  stages  if  we  take  into  account  facts 
furnished  by  extinct  societies  and  societies  less  developed 
than  those  of  Europe. 

Of  the  skilled  arts  among  the  Peruvians,  Prescott  re- 
marks : — “ these  occupations,  like  every  other  calling  and 
office  in  Peru,  always  descended  from  father  to  son ; ” and 
Clavigero  says  of  the  Mexicans  “ that  they  perpetuated  the 
arts  in  families  to  the  advantage  of  the  State : ” the  reason 
Gomara  gives  why  “ the  poor  taught  their  sons  their  own 
trades,”  being  that  “ they  could  do  so  without  expense  ” — a 
reason  of  general  application.  Heeren’s  researches  into 
ancient  Egyptian  usages,  have  led  him  to  accept  the  state- 
ment of  early  historians,  that  “ the  son  was  bound  to  carry 
on  the  trade  of  his  father  and  that  alone ; ” and  he  cites  a 
papyrus  referring  to  an  institution  naturally  connected  with 
this  usage — “ the  guild  or  company  of  curriers  or  leather- 


466 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTION'S. 


dressers.”  Then  of  the  Greeks,  Hermann  tell  us  that  various 
arts  and  professions  were — 

“ peculiar  to  certain  families,  whose  claims  to  an  exclusive  exercise  of 
them  generally  ascended  to  a fabulous  origin.  We  moreover  find 
‘ pupil  and  son 5 for  many  successive  generations  designated  by  the  same 
term ; and  closely  connected  with  the  exclusiveness  and  monopoly  of 
many  professions,  is  the  little  respect  in  which  they  were,  in  some 
instances,  held  by  the  rest  of  the  people  : a circumstance  which  Greek 
authors  themselves  compare  with  the  prejudice  of  caste  prevalent  among 
other  nations.” 

China,  as  at  present  existing,  yields  evidence  : — 

“The  popular  associations  in  cities  and  towns  are  chiefly  based  upon  a 
community  of  interests,  resulting  either  from  a similarity  of  occupation, 
when  the  leading  persons  of  the  same  calling  form  themselves  into 
guilds,  or  from  the  municipal  regulations  requiring  the  householders 
living  in  the  same  street  to  unite  to  maintain  a police,  and  keep  the 
peace  of  their  division.  Each  guild  has  an  assembly-hall,  where  its 
members  meet  to  hold  the  festival  of  their  patron  saint.” 

And,  as  I learn  from  the  J apanese  minister,  a kindred  state  of 
things  once  existed  in  J apan.  Children  habitually  followed 
the  occupations  of  their  parents;  in  course  of  generations 
there  resulted  clusters  of  relatives  engaged  in  the  same  trade  ; 
and  these  clusters  developed  regulative  arrangements  within 
themselves.  Whether  the  fact  that  in  Japan,  as  in  the  East 
generally,  the  clustering  of  traders  of  one  kind  in  the  same 
street,  arises  from  the  original  clustering  of  the  similarly- 
occupied  kindred,  I find  no  evidence;  but  since,  in  early 
times,  mutual  protection  of  the  members  of  a trading  kindred, 
as  of  other  kindred,  was  needful,  this  seems  probable.  Fur- 
ther evidence  of  like  meaning  may  be  disentangled  from  the 
involved  phenomena  of  caste  in  India.  In  No.  CXLII  of 
the  Calcutta  Review , in  an  interesting  essay  by  Jogendra 
Chandra  Ghosh,  caste  is  regarded  as  “ a natural  development 
of  the  Indian  village-communities ; ” as  “ distinguished  not 
only  by  the  autonomy  of  each  guild,”  “ but  by  the  mutual 
relations  between  these  autonomous  guilds ; ” and  as  being 
so  internally  organized  “ that  caste  government  does  not 
recognize  the  finding  or  the  verdict  of  any  court  other  than 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


467 


what  forms  part  of  itself/’  In  answer  to  my  inquiries,  the 
writer  of  this  essay  has  given  me  a mass  of  detailed  informa- 
tion, from  which  I extract  the  following : — 

“ A Hindoo  joint  family  signifies  (1)  that  the  members  all  mess  together ; 
(2)  and  live  in  the  same  house ; (3)  that  the  male  members  and  un- 
married girls  are  descended  from  a common  ancestor  ; and  (4)  that  the 
male  members  put  their  incomes  together.  . . . The  integral  character 
of  the  family  is  destroyed  when  the  joint  mess  and  common  purse  cease 
to  exist.  However,  the  branches  thus  disunited  continue  to  observe 
certain  close  relations  as  gnatis  up  to  some  seven  or  fourteen  generations 
from  the  common  ancestor.  Beyond  that  limit  they  are  said  to  be 
merely  of  the  same  gotra 

Passing  over  the  detailed  constitution  of  a caste  as  consist- 
ing of  many  such  gotras , and  of  the  groups  produced  by  their 
intermarriages  under  restrictions  of  exogamy  of  the  gotras 
and  endogamy  of  the  caste — passing  over  the  feasts,  sacrificial 
and  other,  held  among  members  of  the  joint  family  when 
their  groups  have  separated ; I turn  to  the  facts  of  chief 
significance.  Though,  under  English  rule,  inheritance  of 
occupation  is  no  longer  so  rigorous,  yet — 

“ the  principle  is  universally  recognized  that  every  caste  is  bound  to 
follow  a particular  occupation  and  no  other.  . . . The  partition  of  the 
land,  or  the  house  as  well,  is  governed  by  the  law  of  equal  succession  ; 
and  as  fresh  branches  set  up  new  houses,  they  are  found  all  clustered 
together,  with  the  smallest  space  between  them  for  roadway.  . . . But 
when,  as  in  bazaars , men  take  up  houses  for  commercial  purposes,  the 
clustering  is  governed  either  by  family  and  caste -relations,  or  by 
common  avocations  [which  imply  some  caste-kinship]  and  facility  of 
finding  customers.” 

In  which  facts  we  may  see  pretty  clearly  that  were  there 
none  of  the  complications  consequent  on  the  intermarriage 
regulations,  there  would  simply  result  groups  united  by 
occupation  as  well  as  by  ancestry,  clustering  together,  and 
having  their  internal  governments. 

Returning  from  consideration  of  these  facts  supplied  by 
other  societies,  let  us  now  observe  how  numerous  are  the 
reasons  for  concluding  that  the  gild,  familiar  to  us  as  a 
union  of  similarly-occupied  workers,  was  originally  a union 
of  kindred.  In  the  primitive  compound  family  there  was 


468 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


worship  of  the  common  ancestor ; and  the  periodic  sacrificial 
feasts  were  occasions  on  which  all  the  descendants  assembled. 
Describing  the  origin  of  gilds,  Thierry  writes 
“Dans  Fancienne  Scandinavie,  ceux  qni  se  reunissaient  aux  epoques 
solennelles  pour  sacrifier  ensemble  terminaient  la  ceremonie  par  un 
festin  religieux.  Assis  autour  du  feu  et  de  la  chaudiere  du  sacrifice,  ils 
buvaient  a la  ronde  et  vidaient  successivement  trois  cornes  remplies  de 
biere,  Tune  pour  les  dieux,  Fautre  pour  les  braves  du  vieux  temps,  et  la 
troisieme  pour  les  parents  et  les  amis  dont  les  tombes,  marquees  par  des 
monticules  de  gazon,  se  voyaient  §a  et  la  dans  la  plaine  ; on  appelait 
celle-ci  la  coupe  de  Famitie.  Le  nom  d’amiti6  (minne)  se  donnait  aussi 
quelquefois  a la  reunion  de  ceux  qui  offraient  en  commun  le  sacrifice, 
et,  d’ordinaire,  cette  reunion  etait  appelee  ghilde .” 

And  Brentano,  giving  a similar  account,  says — “ f Gild  ’ meant 
originally  the  sacrificial  meal  made  up  of  the  common  contri- 
butions ; then  a sacrificial  banquet  in  general ; and  lastly  a 
society/'  Here  we  find  a parallelism  with  the  observances  of 
the  Hindoo  joint-family,  consisting  of  clusters  of  relatives 
carrying  on  the  same  occupation,  who  meet  at  feasts  which 
were  primarily  sacrificial  to  ancestors;  and  we  find  a 
parallelism  with  the  religious  observances  of  such  clusters 
of  similarly-occupied  relatives  as  the  Asklepiadse  among 
the  Greeks;  and  we  find  a parallelism  with  the  gild- 
feasts  of  the  ancestor- worshipping  Chinese,  held  in  honour  of 
the  patron  saint : all  suggesting  the  origin  of  those  religious 
services  and  feasts  habitual  in  early  gilds  of  our  own 
society.  To  state  briefly  the  further  likenesses  of 

nature : — We  have,  in  the  primitive  compound  family, 
the  obligation  of  blood-revenge  for  slain  relatives ; and  in 
early  gilds,  as  in  ancient  Sleswig,  there  was  blood-revenge 
for  members  of  the  gild.  We  have,  in  the  compound 
family,  responsibility  for  transgressions  of  its  members ; and 
gilds  were  similarly  responsible : the  wergylds  falling  in  part 
on  them,  after  murders  were  compounded  for  by  money.  We 
have,  in  the  compound  family,  joint  claims  to  sustenance 
derived  from  the  common  property  and  labour ; and  in  the 
gild  we  have  the  duty  of  maintaining  incapable  members. 
Within  the  family  there  was  control  of  private  conduct,  either 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


469 


by  a despotic  head  or  by  a council,  as  there  is  now  within  the 
local  clusters  of  the  Hindoo  castes ; and  in  like  manner  the 
ordinances  of  gilds  extended  to  the  regulation  of  personal 
habits.  Lastly,  this  family  or  caste  government,  as  still 
shown  us  in  India,  includes  in  its  punishments  excommuni- 
cation ; and  so,  too,  was  there  outlawry  from  the  gild.* 

It  is  inferable,  then,  that  the  gild  was  evolved  from  the 
family.  Continuance  of  a business,  art,  or  profession,  among 
descendants,  is,  in  early  stages,  almost  inevitable.  Acquisi- 
tion of  skill  in  it  by  early  practice  is  easy  ; the  cost  of  teaching 
is  inappreciable  ; and  retention  of  the  “ craft  ” or  “ mystery  ” 
within  the  family  is  desirable : there  being  also  the  reason 
that  while  family-groups  are  in  antagonism,  the  teaching  of 
one  another’s  members  cannot  usually  be  practicable.  But 
in  course  of  time  there  come  into  play  influences  by  which 
the  character  of  the  gild  as  an  assemblage  of  kindred 
is  obscured.  Adoption,  which,  as  repeatedly  pointed  out, 
is  practised  by  groups  of  all  kinds,  needs  but  to  become 
common  to  cause  this  constitutional  change.  We  have  seen 
that  among  the  Greeks,  “pupil”  and  “son”  had  the  same  name. 
At  the  present  time  in  J apan,  an  apprentice,  standing  in  the 
position  of  son  to  his  master,  calls  him  “ father and  in  our 
own  craft-gilds  “the  apprentice  became  a member  of  the 
family  of  his  master,  who  instructed  him  in  his  trade,  and 
who,  like  a father,  had  to  watch  over  his  morals,  as  well  as 
his  work.”  The  eventual  admission  of  the  apprentice 
into  the  gild,  when  he  was  a stranger  in  blood  to  its  mem- 
bers, qualified,  in  so  far,  its  original  nature;  and  where, 
through  successive  generations,  the  trade  was  a prosperous 


* A friend  who  has  read  this  chapter  in  proof,  points  out  to  me  passages 
in  which  Brentano  draws  from  these  parallelisms  a like  inference.  Re- 
ferring to  the  traits  of  certain  fully-developed  gilds,  he  says  : — “ If  we  con- 
nect them  with  what  historians  relate  about  the  family  in  those  days,  we 
may  still  recognize  in  them  the  germ  from  which,  in  later  times,  at  a certain 
stage  of  civilization,  the  Gild  had  necessarily  to  develop  itself  , . . the  family 
appears  as  the  pattern  and  original  type,  after  which  all  the  later  Gilds  were 
formed,” 


470 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


one,  tempting  masters  to  get  more  help  than  their  own  sons 
could  furnish,  this  process  would  slowly  bring  about  predomi- 
nance of  the  unrelated  members,  and  an  ultimate  loss  of  the 
family-character.  After  which  it  would  naturally  happen 
that  the  growing  up  of  new  settlements  and  towns,  bringing 
together  immigrants  who  followed  the  same  calling  but  were 
not  of  the  same  blood,  would  lead  to  the  deliberate  forma- 
tion of  gilds  after  the  pattern  of  those  existing  in  older 
places : an  appearance  of  artificial  origin  being  the  result ; 
just  as  now,  in  our  colonies,  there  is  an  apparently  artificial 
origin  of  political  institutions  which  yet,  a3  being  fashioned 
like  those  of  the  mother-country,  where  they  were  slowly 
evolved,  are  traceable  to  a natural  origin. 

Any  one  who  doubts  the  transformation  indicated,  may  be 
reminded  of  a much  greater  transformation  of  allied-  kind. 
The  gilds  of  London, — goldsmiths’,  fishmongers’,  and  the 
rest,  — were  originally  composed  of  men  carrying  on  the 
trades  implied  by  their  names ; but  in  each  of  these  com- 
panies the  inclusion  of  persons  of  other  trades,  or  of  no  trade, 
has  gone  to  the  extent  that  few  if  any  of  the  members  carry 
on  the  trades  which  their  memberships  imply.  If,  then, 
the  process  of  adoption  in  this  later  form,  has  so  changed 
the  gild  that,  while  retaining  its  identity,  it  has  lost  its 
distinctive  trade-character,  we  are  warranted  in  concluding 
that  still  more  readily  might  the  earlier  process  of  adop- 
tion into  the  simple  family  or  the  compound  family  practis- 
ing any  craft,  eventually  change  the  gild  from  a cluster 
of  kindred  to  a cluster  formed  chiefly  of  unrelated  persons. 

§ 514.  Involved  and  obscure  as  the  process  has  been,  the 
evolution  of  local  governing  agencies  is  thus  fairly  compre- 
hensible. We  divide  them  into  two  kinds,  which,  starting 
from  a common  root,  have  diverged  as  fast  as  small  societies 
have  been  integrated  into  large  ones. 

Through  successive  stages  of  consolidation,  the  political 
heads  of  the  once-separate  parts  pass  from  independence  to 


LOCAL  GOVERNING  AGENCIES. 


471 


dependence,  and  end  in  being  provincial  agents — first  partially- 
conquered  chiefs  paying  tribute  ; then  fully-conquered  chiefs 
governing  under  command ; then  local  governors  who  are 
appointed  by  the  central  governor  and  hold  power  under 
approval : becoming  eventually  executive  officers. 

There  is  habitually  a kinship  in  character  between  the 
controlling  systems  of  the  parts  and  the  controlling  system 
of  the  whole  (assuming  unity  of  race),  consequent  on  the 
fact  that  both  are  ultimately  products  of  the  same  individual 
nature.  With  a central  despotism  there  goes  local  despotic 
rule ; with  a freer  form  of  the  major  government  there  goes 
a freer  form  of  the  minor  governments ; and  a change  either 
way  in  the  one  is  followed  by  a kindred  change  in  the 
other. 

While,  with  the  compounding  of  small  societies  into  large 
ones,  the  political  ruling  agencies  which  develop  locally  as 
well  as  generally,  become  separate  from,  and  predominant 
over,  the  ruling  agencies  of  family-origin,  these  last  do  not 
disappear ; but,  surviving  in  their  first  forms,  also  give 
origin  to  differentiated  forms.  The  assemblage  of  kindred  long 
continues  to  have  a qualified  semi* political  autonomy,  with 
internal  government  and  external  obligations  and  claims. 
And  while  family-clusters,  losing  their  definiteness  by  inter- 
fusion, slowly  lose  their  traits  as  separate  independent 
societies,  there  descend  from  them  clusters  which,  in  some 
cases  united  chiefly  by  locality  and  in  others  chiefly  by 
occupation,  inherit  their  traits,  and  constitute  governing 
agencies  supplementing  the  purely  political  ones. 

It  may  be  added  that  these  supplementary  governing 
agencies,  proper  to  the  militant  type  of  society,  dissolve  as 
the  industrial  type  begins  to  predominate.  Defending  their 
members,  held  responsible  for  the  transgressions  of  their 
members,  and  exercising  coercion  over  their  members,  they 
are  made  needful  by,  and  bear  the  traits  of,  a regime  of 
chronic  antagonisms ; and  as  these  die  away  their  raison 
d'etre  disappears.  Moreover,  artificially  restricting,  as  they 


472 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


do,  tlie  actions  of  each  member,  and  also  making  him  re- 
sponsible for  other  deeds  than  his  own,  they  are  at  variance 
with  that  increasing  assertion  of  individuality  which  accom- 
panies developing  industrialism. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 

§ 515.  Indirectly,  much  has  already  been  said  concerning 
the  subject  now  to  be  dealt  with.  Originally  identical  as  is 
the  political  organization  with  the  military  organization,  it 
has  been  impossible  to  treat  of  the  first  without  touching  on 
the  second.  After  exhibiting  the  facts  under  one  aspect  we 
have  here  to  exhibit  another  aspect  of  them ; and  at  the  same 
time  to  bring  into  view  classes  of  related  facts  thus  far  unob- 
served. But,  first,  let  us  dwell  a moment  on  the  alleged 
original  identity. 

In  rude  societies  all  adult  males  are  warriors ; and,  conse- 
quently, the  army  is  the  mobilized  community,  and  the  com- 
munity is  the  army  at  rest,  as  was  remarked  in  § 259. 

With  this  general  truth  we  may  join  the  general  truth 
that  the  primitive  military  gathering  is  also  the  primitive  poli- 
tical gathering.  Alike  in  savage  tribes  and  in  communities 
like  those  of  our  rude  ancestors,  the  assemblies  which  are 
summoned  for  purposes  of  defence  and  offence,  are  the 
assemblies  in  which  public  questions  at  large  are  decided. 

Next  stands  the  fact,  so  often  named,  that  in  the  normal 
course  of  social  evolution,  the  military  head  grows  into  the 
political  head.  This  double  character  of  leading  warrior  and 
civil  ruler,  early  arising,  ordinarily  continues  through  long 
stages;  and  where,  as  not  unfrequently  happens,  military 
headship  becomes  in  a measure  separated  from  political 


474 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


headship,  continued  warfare  is  apt  to  cause  a re-identifi- 
cation of  them. 

As  societies  become  compounded  and  re-compounded,  coin- 
cidence of  military  authority  with  political  authority  is  shown 
in  detail  as  well  as  in  general — in  the  parts  as  in  the  whole. 
The  minor  war-chiefs  are  also  minor  civil  rulers  in  their 
several  localities;  and  the  commanding  of  their  respective 
groups  of  soldiers  in  the  field,  is  of  like  nature  with  the 
governing  of  their  respective  groups  of  dependents  at  home. 

Once  more,  there  is  the  general  fact  that  the  economic 
organizations  of  primitive  communities,  coincide  with  their 
military  organizations.  In  savage  tribes  war  and  hunting 
are  carried  on  by  the  same  men ; while  their  wives  (and  their 
slaves  where  they  have  any)  do  the  drudgery  of  domestic 
life.  And,  similarly,  in  rude  societies  that  have  become 
settled,  the  military  unit  and  the  economic  unit  are  the  same. 
The  soldier  is  also  the  landowner. 

Such,  then,  being  the  primitive  identity  of  the  political 
organization  with  military  organization,  we  have  in  this 
chapter  to  note  the  ways  in  which  the  two  differentiate. 

• § 516.  We  may  most  conveniently  initiate  the  inquiry  by 
observing  the  change  which,  during  social  evolution,  takes 
place  in  the  incidence  of  military  obligations  ; and  by  recog- 
nizing the  accompanying  separation  of  the  fighting  body  from 
the  rest  of  the  community. 

Though  there  are  some  tribes  in  which  military  service 
(for  aggressive  war  at  any  rate)  is  not  compulsory,  as  the 
Comanches,  Dakotas,  Chippewas,  whose  war-chiefs  go  about 
enlisting  volunteers  for  their  expeditions ; yet  habitually  where 
political  subordination  is  established,  every  man  not  privately 
possessed  as  a chattel  is  bound  to  fight  when  called  on.  There 
have  been,  and  are,  some  societies  of  considerably-advanced 
structures  in  which  this  state  of  things  continues.  In  ancient 
Peru  the  common  men  were  all  either  actually  in  the  army 
or  formed  a reserve  occupied  in  labour ; and  in  modern  Siam 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 


475 


the  people  “ are  all  soldiers,  and  owe  six  months’  service 
yearly  to  their  prince”  But,  usually,  social  progress  is  accom- 
panied by  a narrowed  incidence  of  military  obligation. 

When  the  enslavement  of  captives  is  followed  by  the  rear- 
ing of  their  children  as  slaves,  as  well  as  by  the  consigning 
of  criminals  and  debtors  to  slavery — when,  as  in  some  cases, 
there  is  joined  with  the  slave-class  a serf-class  composed  of 
subjugated  people  not  detached  from  their  homes ; the  com- 
munity becomes  divided  into  two  parts,  on  one  of  which  only 
does  military  duty  fall.  Whereas,  in  previous  stages,  the 
division  of  the  whole  society  had  been  into  men  as  fighters 
and  women  as  workers,  the  division  of  workers  now  begins  to 
include  men ; and  these  continue  to  form  an  increasing  part 
of  the  total  male  population.  Though  we  are  told  that  in 
Aslrantee  (where  everyone  is  in  fact  owned  by  the  king)  the 
slave-population  “ principally  constitutes  ihe  military  force,” 
and  that  in  Rabbah  (among  the  Fulahs)  the  army  is  com- 
posed of  slaves  liberated  “ on  consideration  of  their  taking  up 
arms  yet,  generally,  those  in  bondage  are  not  liable  to  mili- 
tary service  : the  causes  being  partly  distrust  of  them  (as  was 
shown  among  the  Spartans  when  forced  to  employ  the  helots) 
partly  contempt  for  them  as  defeated  men  or  the  offspring  of 
defeated  men,  and  partly  a-desire  to  devolve  on  others,  labours 
at  once  necessary  and  repugnant.  Causes  aside,  however,  the 
evidence  proves  that  the  army  at  this  early  stage  usually 
coincides  with  the  body  of  freemen  ; who  are  also  the  body 
of  landowners.  This,  as  before  shown  in  § 458,  was  the 
case  in  Egypt,  Greece,  Rome,  and  Germany.  How  natural 
is  this  incidence  of  military  obligation,  we  see  in  the  facts 
that  in  ancient  Japan  and  mediaeval  India,  there  were 
systems  of  military  tenure  like  that  of  the  middle  ages  in 
Europe ; and  that  a kindred  connexion  had  arisen  even  in 
societies  like  those  of  Tahiti  and  Samoa. 

Extent  of  estate  being  a measure  of  its  owner’s  ability 
to  bear  burdens,  there  grows  up  a connexion  between 
the  amount  of  land  held  and  the  amount  of  military  aid 


4:76 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


to  be  rendered.  Thus  in  Greece  under  Solon,  those  whose 
properties  yielded  less  than  a certain  revenue  were  exempt 
from  duty  as  soldiers,  save  in  emergencies.  In  Eome,  with  a 
view  to  better  adjustment  of  the  relation  between  means  and 
requirements,  there  was  a periodic  “ revision  of  the  register  of 
landed  property,  which  was  at  the  same  time  the  levy-roll.” 
Throughout  the  middle  ages  this  principle  was  acted  upon 
by  proportioning  the  numbers  of  warriors  demanded  to  the 
sizes  of  the  fiefs ; and  again,  afterwards,  by  requiring  from 
parishes  their  respective  contingents. 

A dissociation  of  military  duty  from  land-ownership 
begins  when  land  ceases  to  be  the  only  source  of  wealth. 
The  growth  of  a class  of  free  workers,  accumulating  pro- 
perty by  trade,  is  followed  by  the  imposing  on  them,  also,  of 
obligations  to  fight  or  to  provide  fighters.  Though,  as  appa- 
rently in  the  cases  of  Greece  and  Eome,  the  possessions  in 
virtue  of  which  citizens  of  this  order  at  first  become  liable, 
are  lands  in  which  they  have  invested ; yet,  at  later  stages, 
they  become  liable  as  possessors  of  other  property.  Such,  at 
least,  is  the  interpretation  we  may  give  to  the  practice  of 
making  industrial  populations  furnish  their  specified  numbers 
of  warriors ; whether,  as  during  the  Eoman  conquests,  it  took 
the  shape  of  requiring  “ rich  and  populous  ” towns  to  maintain 
cohorts  of  infantry  or  divisions  of  cavalry,  or  whether,  as  with 
chartered  towns  in  mediaeval  days,  there  was  a contract  with 
the  king  as  suzerain,  to  supply  him  with  stated  numbers  of 
men  duly  armed. 

Later  on,  the  same  cause  initiates  a further  change.  As 
fast  as  industry  increases  the  relative  quantity  of  trans- 
ferable property,  it  becomes  more  easy  to  compound  for 
service  in  war ; either  by  providing  a deputy  or  by  paying  to 
the  ruler  a sum  which  enables  him  to  provide  one.  Origi- 
nally the  penalty  for  non-fulfilment  of  military  obligation 
was  loss  of  lands ; then  a heavy  fine,  which,  once  accepted, 
it  became  more  frequently  the  custom  to  bear;  then  an 
habitual  compounding  for  the  special  services  demanded ; 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 


477 


then  a levying  of  dues,  such  as  those  called  scutages,  in  place 
of  special  compositions.  Evidently,  industrial  growth  made 
this  change  possible  ; both  by  increasing  the  population  from 
which  the  required  numbers  of  substitutes  could  be  obtained, 
and  by  producing  the  needful  floating  capital. 

So  that  whereas  in  savage  and  semi-civilized  communities 
of  warlike  kinds,  the  incidence  of  military  obligation  is  such 
that  each  free  man  has  to  serve  personally,  and  also  to  pro- 
vide his  own  arms  and  provisions ; the  progress  from  this 
state  in  which  industry  does  but  occupy  the  intervals  between 
wars,  to  a state  in  which  war  does  but  occasionally  break  the 
habitual  industry,  brings  an  increasing  dissociation  of  mili- 
tary obligation  from  free  citizenship : military  obligation  at 
the  same  time  tending  to  become  a pecuniary  burden  levied 
in  proportion  to  property  of  whatever  land.  Though  where 
there  is  a conscription,  personal  service  is  theoretically  due 
from  each  on  whom  the  lot  falls,  yet  the  ability  to  buy  a sub- 
stitute brings  the  obligation  back  to  a pecuniary  one.  And 
though  we  have  an  instance  in  our  own  day  of  universal 
military  obligation  not  thus  to  be  compounded  for,  we  see 
that  it  is  part  of  a reversion  to  the  condition  of  predominant 
militancy. 

§ 517.  An  aspect  of  this  change  not  yet  noted,  is  the 
simultaneous  decrease  in  the  ratio  which  the  fighting  part  of 
the  community  bears  to  the  rest.  With  the  transition  from 
nomadic  habits  to  settled  habits,  there  begins  an  economic 
resistance  to  militant  action,  which  increases  as  industrial  life 
develops,  and  diminishes  the  relative  size  of  the  military  body. 

Though  in  tribes  of  hunters  the  men  are  as  ready  for  war 
at  one  time  as  at  another,  yet  in  agricultural  societies  there 
obviously  exists  an  impediment  to  unceasing  warfare.  In 
the  exceptional  case  of  the  Spartans,  the  carrying  on  of  rural 
industry  was  not  allowed  to  prevent  daily  occupation  of  all 
freemen  in  warlike  exercises ; but,  speaking  generally,  the 
sowing  and  reaping  of  crops  hinder  the  gathering  together 


478 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


of  freemen  for  offensive  or  defensive  purposes.  Hence  in 
course  of  time  come  decreased  calls  on  them.  The  ancient 
Suevi  divided  themselves  so  as  alternately  to  share  war- 
duties  and  farm-work : each  season  the  active  warriors  re- 
turned to  till  the  land,  while  their  places  were  “ supplied  by 
the  husbandmen  of  the  previous  year.”  Alfred  established 
in  England  a kindred  alternation  between  military  service 
and  cultivation  of  the  soil.  In  feudal  times,  again,  the  same 
tendency  was  shown  by  restrictions  on  the  duration  and 
amount  of  the  armed  aid  which  a feudal  tenant  and  his  re- 
tainers had  to  give — now  for  sixty,  for  forty,  for  twenty  days, 
down  even  to  four ; now  alone,  and  again  with  specified  num- 
bers of  followers ; here  without  limit  of  distance,  and  there 
within  the  bounds  of  a county.  Doubtless,  insubordination 
often  caused  resistances  to  service,  and  consequent  limitations 
of  this  kind.  But  manifestly,  absorption  of  the  energies  in 
industry,  directly  and  indirectly  antagonized  militant  action ; 
with  the  result  that  separation  of  the  fighting  body  from  the 
general  body  of  citizens  was  accompanied  by  a decrease  in  its 
relative  mass. 

There  are  two  cooperating  causes  for  this  decrease  of  its 
relative  mass,  which  are  of  much  significance.  One  is  the 
increasing  costliness  of  the  soldier,  and  of  war  appliances, 
which  goes  along  with  that  social  progress  made  possible  by 
industrial  growth.  In  the  savage  state  each  warrior  provides 
his  own  weapons ; and,  on  war-excursions,  depends  on  himself 
for  sustenance.  At  a higher  stage  this  ceases  to  be  the  case. 
When  chariots  of  war,  and  armour,  and  siege-implements 
come  to  be  used,  there  are  presupposed  sundry  specialized  and 
skilled  artizan-classes ; implying  a higher  ratio  of  the  industrial 
part  of  the  community  to  the  militant  part.  And  when, 
later  on,  there  are  introduced  fire-arms,  artillery,  ironclads, 
torpedoes,  and  the  like,  we  see  that  there  must  co-exist 
a large  and  highly-organized  body  of  producers  and  dis- 
tributors ; alike  to  furnish  the  required  powers  and  bear  the 
entailed  cost.  That  is  to  say,  tlief  war-machinery,  both  living 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 


479 


and  dead,  cannot  be  raised  in  efficiency  without  lowering 
the  ratio  it  bears  to  those  sustaining  structures  which  give  it 
efficiency. 

The  other  cooperating  cause  which  simultaneously  comes 
into  play,  is  directly  due  to  the  compounding  and  re-compound- 
ing of  societies.  The  larger  nations  become,  and  the  greater  the 
distances  over  which  their  military  actions  range,  the  more 
expensive  do  those  actions  grow.  It  is  with  an  army  as  with 
a limb,  the  effort  put  forth  is  costly  in  proportion  to  the 
remoteness  of  the  acting  parts  from  the  base  of  operations. 
Though  it  is  true  that  a body  of  victorious  invaders  may  raise 
some,  or  the  whole,  of  its  supplies  from  the  conquered  society, 
yet  before  it  has  effected  conquest  it  cannot  do  this,  but  is 
dependent  for  maintenance  on  its  own  society,  of  which  it 
then  forms  an  integral  part:  where  it  ceases  to  form  an 
integral  part  and  wanders  far  away,  living  on  spoils,  like 
Tatar  hordes  in  past  ages,  we  are  no  longer  dealing  with 
social  organization  and  its  laws,  but  with  social  destruction. 
Limiting  ourselves  to  societies  which,  permanently  localized, 
preserve  their  individualities,  it  is  clear  that  the  larger  the 
integrations  formed,  the  greater  is  the  social  strain  conse- 
quent on  the  distances  at  which  fighting  has  to  be  done ; and 
the  greater  the  amount  of  industrial  population  required  to 
bear  the  strain.  Doubtless,  improved  means  of  communica- 
tion may  all  at  once  alter  the  ratio ; but  this  does  not  conflict 
with  the  proposition  when  qualified  by  saying — other  things 
equal. 

In  three  ways,  therefore,  does  settled  life,  and  the  develop- 
ment of  civilization,  so  increase  the  economic  resistance  to 
militant  action,  as  to  cause  decrease  of  the  ratio  borne  by 
the  militant  part  to  the  non-militant  part. 

§ 518.  With  those  changes  in  the  incidence  of  military 
obligation  which  tend  to  separate  the  body  of  soldiers 
from  the  body  of  workers,  and  with  those  other  changes 
which  tend  to  diminish  its  relative  size,  there  go  changes 


4S0 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


which  tend  to  differentiate  it  in  a further  way.  The  first  of 
these  to  be  noted  is  the  parting  of  military  headship  from 
political  headship. 

We  have  seen  that  the  commencement  of  social  organization 
is  the  growth  of  the  leading  warrior  into  the  civil  governor. 
To  illustrative  facts  before  named  may  be  added  the  fact 
that  an  old  English  ruler,  as  instance  Hengist,  was  originally 
called  “ Here-toga  ” — literally  army-leader ; and  the  office 
developed  into  that  of  king  only  after  settlement  in  Britain. 
But  with  establishment  of  hereditary  succession  to  political 
headship,  there  comes  into  play  an  influence  which  tends  to 
make  the  chief  of  the  State  distinct  from  the  chief  of  the 
army.  That  antagonism  between  the  principle  of  inheritance 
and  the  principle  of  efficiency,  everywhere  at  work,  has  from 
the  beginning  been  conspicuous  in  this  relation,  because  of 
the  imperative  need  for  efficient  generalship.  Often,  as  shown 
in  § 473,  there  is  an  endeavour  to  unite  the  two  qualifications ; 
as,  for  example,  in  ancient  Mexico,  where  the  king,  before  being 
crowned,  had  to  fill  successfully  the  position  of  commander- 
in-chief.  But  from  quite  early  stages  we  find  that  where 
hereditary  succession  has  been  established,  and  there  does  not 
happen  to  be  inheritance  of  military  capacity  along  with 
political  supremacy,  it  is  common  for  headship  of  the  warriors 
to  become  a separate  post  filled  by  election.  Says  Waitz, 
“ among  the  Guaranis  the  chieftainship  generally  goes  from 
father  to  first-born  son.  The  leader  in  war  is,  however, 
elected.”  In  Ancient  Nicaragua  “ the  war-chief  was  elected 
by  the  warriors  to  lead  them,  on  account  of  his  ability  and 
bravery  in  battle  ; but  the  civil  or  hereditary  chief  often 
accompanies  the  army.”  Of  the  New  Zealanders  we  read 
that  “ hereditary  chiefs  were  generally  the  leaders,”  but  not 
always : others  being  chosen  on  account  of  bravery.  And 
among  the  Sakarran  Dyaks  there  is  a war  chief,  in  addition 
to  the  ordinary  chief.  In  the  case  of  the  Bedouins  the  original 
motive  has  been  defeated  in  a curious  way. 

“ During  a campaign  in  actual  warfare,  the  authority  of  the  sheikh 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 


481 


of  the  tribe  is  completely  set  aside,  and  the  soldiers  are  wholly  under 
the  command  of  the  agyd.  . . . The  office  of  agyd  is  hereditary  in  a 
certain  family,  from  father  to  son  ; and  the  Arabs  submit  to  the  com- 
mands of  an  agyd,  whom  they  know  to  be  deficient  both  in  bravery  and 
judgment,  rather  than  yield  to  the  orders  of  their  sheikh  during  the 
actual  expedition  ; for  they  say  that  expeditions  headed  by  the  sheikh, 
are  always  unsuccessful.” 

It  should  be  added  that  in  some  cases  we  see  coming  into 
play  further  motives.  Forster  tells  ns  that  in  Tahiti  the 
king  sometimes  resigns  the  post  of  commander-in-chief  of 
the  fighting  force,  to  one  of  his  chiefs  : conscious  either  of  his 
own  unfitness  or  desirous  of  avoiding  danger.  And  then  in 
some  cases  the  anxiety  of  subjects  to  escape  the  evils  follow- 
ing loss  of  the  political  head,  leads  to  this  separation ; as 
when,  among  the  Hebrews,  “ the  men  of  David  sware  unto 
him,  saying,  Thou  shalt  go  no  more  out  with  us  to  battle, 
that  thou  quench  not  the  light  of  Israel ; ” or  as  when,  in 
France  in  923,  the  king  was  besought  by  the  ecclesiastics 
and  nobles  who  surrounded  him,  to  take  no  part  in  the  im- 
pending fight. 

At  the  same  time  the  ruler,  conscious  that  military  com- 
mand gives  great  power  to  its  holder,  frequently  appoints  as 
army-leader  his  son  or  other  near  relative : thus  trying  to 
prevent  the  usurpation  so  apt  to  occur  (as,  to  add  another 
instance,  it  occurred  among  the  Hebrews,  whose  throne  was 
several  times  seized  by  captains  of  the  host).  The  Iliad  shows 
that  it  was  usual  for  a Greek  king  to  delegate  to  his  heir 
the  duty  of  commanding  his  troops.  In  Merovingian  times 
kings’  sons  frequently  led  their  fathers’  armies  ; and  of  the 
Carolingians  we  read  that  while  the  king  commanded  the 
main  levy,  “ over  other  armies  his  sons  were  placed,  and  to 
them  the  business  of  commanding  was  afterwards  increas- 
ingly transferred.”  It  was  thus  in  ancient  Japan.  When  the 
emperor  did  not  himself  command  his  troops,  “ this  charge 
was  only  committed  to  members  of  the  Imperial  house,” 
and  “ the  power  thus  remained  with  the  sovereign.”  In 
ancient  Peru  there  was  a like  alternative.  “ The  army  was 


482 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


put  under  tlie  direction  of  some  experienced  chief  of  the  royal 
blood,  or,  more  frequently,  headed  by  the  Ynca  in  person.” 

The  widening  civil  functions  of  the  political  head,  obviously 
prompt  this  delegation  of  military  functions.  But  while  the 
discharge  of  both  becomes  increasingly  difficult  as  the  nation 
enlarges  ; and  while  the  attempt  to  discharge  both  is  danger- 
ous ; there  is  also  danger  in  doing  either  by  deputy.  At  the 
same  time  that  there  is  risk  in  giving  supreme  command  of  a 
distant  army  to  a general,  there  is  also  risk  in  going  with  the 
army  and  leaving  the  government  in  the  hands  of  a vice- 
gerent ; and  the  catastrophes  from  the  one  or  the  other 
cause,  which,  spite  of  precautions,  have  taken  place,  show  us 
alike  that  there  is,  during  social  evolution,  an  inevitable  ten- 
dency to  the  differentiation  of  the  military  headship  from  the 
political  headship,  but  that  this  differentiation  can  become 
permanent  only  under  certain  conditions. 

The  general  fact  would  appear  to  be  that  while  militant 
activity  is  great,  and  the  whole  society  has  the  organiza- 
tion appropriate  to  it,  the  state  of  equilibrium  is  one  in  which 
the  political  head  continues  to  be  also  the  militant  head ; 
that  in  proportion  as  there  grows  up,  along  with  industrial 
life,  a civil  administration  distinguishable  from  the  military 
administration,  the  political  head  tends  to  become  increas- 
ingly civil  in  his  functions,  and  to  delegate,  now  occasionally, 
now  generally,  his  militant  functions ; that  if  there  is  a 
return  to  great  militant  activity,  with  consequent  reversion  to 
militant  structure,  there  is  liable  to  occur  a re-establishment 
of  the  primitive  type  of  headship,  by  usurpation  on  the  part 
of  the  successful  general — either  practical  usurpation,  where 
the  king  is  too  sacred  to  be  displaced,  or  complete  usurpation 
where  he  is  not  too  sacred;  but  that  where,  along  with 
decreasing  militancy,  there  goes  increasing  civil  life  and  ad- 
ministration, headship  of  the  army  becomes  permanently 
differentiated  from  political  headship,  and  subordinated  to  it. 

§ 519.  While,  in  the  course  of  social  evolution,  there  has 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 


483 


been  going  on  this  separation  of  the  fighting  body  from  the 
community  at  large,  this  diminution  in  its  relative  mass,  and 
this  establishment  of  a distinct  headship  to  it,  there  has  been 
going  on  an  internal  organization  of  it. 

The  fighting  body  is  at  first  wholly  without  structure. 
Among  savages  a battle  is  a number  of  single  combats : the 
chief,  if  there  is  one,  being  but  the  warrior  of  most  mark,  who 
fights  like  the  rest.  Through  long  stages  this  disunited  action 
continues.  The  Iliad  tells  of  little  more  than  the  personal  en- 
counters of  heroes,  which  were  doubtless  multiplied  in  detail 
by  their  unmentioned  followers ; and  after  the  decay  of  that 
higher  military  organization  which  accompanied  Greek  and 
Roman  civilization,  this  chaotic  kind  of  fighting  recurred 
throughout  mediaeval  Europe.  During  the  early  feudal 
period  everything  turned  on  the  prowess  of  individuals.  War, 
says  Gautier,  consisted  of  “ bloody  duels ;”  and  even  much 
later  the  idea  of  personal  action  dominated  over  that  of  com- 
bined action.  But  along  with  political  progress,  the  subjec- 
tion of  individuals  to  their  chief  is  increasingly  shown  by 
fulfilling  his  commands  in  battle.  Action  in  the  field 
becomes  in  a higher  degree  concerted,  by  the  absorption  of 
their  wills  in  his  will. 

A like  change  presently  shows  itself  on  a larger  scale. 
While  the  members  of  each  component  group  have  their  actions 
more  and  more  combined,  the  groups  themselves,  of  which 
an  army  is  composed,  pass  from  disunited  action  to  united 
action.  When  small  societies  are  compounded  into  a larger 
one,  their  joint  body  of  warriors  at  first  consists  of  the  tribal 
clusters  and  family-clusters  assembled  together,  but  retaining 
their  respective  individualities.  The  head  of  each  Hottentot 
kraal,  “ has  the  command,  under  the  chief  of  his  nation,  of  the 
troops  furnished  out  by  his  kraal.”  Similarly,  the  Malagasy 
“ kept  their  own  respective  clans,  and  every  clan  had  its  own 
leader.”  Among  the  Chibchas,  “ each  cazique  and  tribe  came 
with  different  signs  on  their  tents,  fitted  out  with  the  mantles 
by  which  they  distinguished  themselves  from  each  other.”  A 
12 


484 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


kindred  arrangement  existed  in  early  Eoman  times  : the  city- 
army  was  “ distributed  into  tribes,  curiae,  and  families.”  It 
was  so,  too,  with  the  Germanic  peoples,  who,  in  the  field, 
“ arranged  themselves,  when  not  otherwise  tied,  in  families 
and  affinities or,  as  is  said  by  Kemble  of  our  ancestors  in 
old  English  times,  “ each  kindred  was  drawn  up  under  an 
officer  of  its  own  lineage  and  appointment,  and  the  several 
members  of  the  family  served  together/'  This  organization, 
or  lack  of  organization,  continued  throughout  the  feudal  period. 
In  France,  in  the  14th  century,  the  army  was  a “ horde  of 
independent  chiefs,  each  with  his  own  following,  each  doing 
his  own  will and,  according  to  Froissart,  the  different  groups 
“ were  so  ill-informed  ” that  they  did  not  always  know  of  a 
discomfiture  of  the  main  body. 

Besides  that  increased  subordination  of  local  heads  to  the 
general  head  which  accompanies  political  integration,  and 
which  must  of  course  precede  a more  centralized  and  com- 
bined mode  of  military  action,  two  special  causes  may  be 
recognized  as  preparing  the  way  for  it. 

One  of  these  is  unlikeness  of  kinds  in  the  arms  used. 
Sometimes  the  cooperating  tribes,  having  habituated  them- 
selves to  different  weapons,  come  to  battle  already  marked 
off  from  one  another.  In  such  cases  the  divisions  by 
weapons  correspond  with  the  tribal  divisions ; as  seems  to 
have  been  to  some  extent  the  case  with  the  Hebrews,  among 
whom  the  men  of  Benjamin,  of  Gad,  and  of  Judah,  were 
partially  thus  distinguished.  But,  usually,  the  unlikenesses  of 
arms  consequent  on  unlikenesses  of  rank,  initiate  these  milit- 
ary divisions  which  tend  to  traverse  the  divisions  arising  from 
tribal  organization.  The  army  of  the  ancient  Egyptians 
included  bodies  of  charioteers,  of  cavalry,  and  of  foot ; and 
the  respective  accoutrements  of  the  men  forming  these  bodies, 
differing  in  their  costliness,  implied  differences  of  social  posi- 
tion. The  like  may  be  said  of  the  Assyrians.  Similarly,  the 
Iliad  shows  us  among  the  early  Greeks  a state  in  which  the 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 


485 


contrasts  in  weapons  due  to  contrasts  in  wealth,  had  not 
yet  resulted  in  differently-armed  bodies,  such  as  are  formed 
at  later  stages  with  decreasing  regard  for  tribal  or  local  divi- 
sions. And  it  was  so  in  Western  Europe  during  times  when 
each  feudal  superior  led  his  own  knights,  and  his  followers  of 
inferior  grades  and  weapons.  Though  within  each  group  there 
were  men  differing  alike  in  their  rank  and  in  their  arms,  yet 
what  we  may  call  the  vertical  divisions  between  groups  were 
not  traversed  by  those  horizontal  divisions  throughout  the 
whole  army,  which  unite  all  who  are  similarly  armed.  This 
wider  segregation  it  is,  however,  which  we  observe  taking 
place  with  the  advance  of  military  organization.  The  supre- 
macy acquired  by  the  Spartans  was  largely  due  to  the  fact 
that  Lykurgus  “ established  military  divisions  quite  distinct 
from  the  civil  divisions,  whereas  in  the  other  states  of  Greece, 
until  a period  much  later  . . . the  two  were  confounded — 
the  hoplites  or  horsemen  of  the  same  tribe  or  ward  being 
marshalled  together  on  the  field  of  battle.”  With  the  pro- 
gress of  the  Roman  arms  there  occurred  kindred  changes. 
The  divisions  came  to  be  related  less  to  rank  as  dependent 
on  tribal  organization,  and  more  to  social  position  as  deter- 
mined by  property ; so  that  the  kinds  of  arms  to  be  borne 
and  the  services  to  be  rendered,  were  regulated  by  the  sizes 
of  estates,  with  the  result  of  “ merging  all  distinctions  of  a 
gentile  and  local  nature  in  the  one  common  levy  of  the  com- 
munity.” In  the  field,  divisions  so  established  stood  thus  : — 
4<  The  four  first  ranks  of  each  phalanx  were  formed  of  the  full-armed 
hoplites  of  the  first  class,  the  holders  of  an  entire  hide  [?]  ; in  the  fifth 
and  sixth  were  placed  the  less  completely  equipped  farmers  of  the  second 
and  third  class  ; the  two  last  classes  were  annexed  as  rear  ranks  to  the 
phalanx. 

And  though  political  distinctions  of  clan-origin  were  not 
thus  directly  disregarded  in  the  cavalry,  yet  they  were  in- 
directly interfered  with  by  the  addition  of  a larger  troop  of 
non-burgess  cavalry.  That  a system  of  divisions  which  tends 
to  obliterate  those  of  rank  and  locality,  has  been  reproduced 


486 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


during  the  re-development  of  military  organization  in  modern 
times,  is  a familiar  fact. 

A concomitant  cause  of  this  change  has  all  along  been 
that  interfusion  of  the  gentile  and  tribal  groups  entailed  by 
aggregation  of  large  numbers.  As  before  pointed  out,  the 
Kleisthenian  re-organization  in  Attica,  and  the  Servian  re- 
organization in  Rome,  were  largely  determined  by  the  im- 
practicability of  maintaining  the  correspondence  between 
tribal  divisions  and  military  obligations ; and  a redistribution 
of  military  obligations  naturally  proceeded  on  a numerical 
basis.  By  various  peoples,  we  find  this  step  in  organization 
taken  for  civil  purposes  or  military  purposes,  or  both.  To 
cases  named  in  § 512,  may  be  added  that  of  the  Hebrews, 
who  were  grouped  into  tens,  fifties,  hundreds  and  thousands. 
Even  the  barbarous  Araucanians  divided  themselves  into 
regiments  of  a thousand,  sub-divided  into  companies  of  a 
hundred.  Evidently  numerical  grouping  conspires  with 
classing  by  arms  to  obliterate  the  primitive  divisions. 

This  transition  from  the  state  of  incoherent  clusters,  each 
having  its  own  rude  organization,  to  the  state  of  a coherent 
wThole,  held  together  by  an  elaborate  organization  running 
throughout  it,  of  course  implies  a concomitant  progress  in 
the  centralization  of  command.  As  the  primitive  horde 
becomes  more  efficient  for  war  in  proportion  as  its  members 
grow  obedient  to  the  orders  of  its  chief ; so,  the  army  formed 
of  aggregated  hordes  becomes  more  efficient  in  proportion  as 
the  chiefs  of  the  hordes  fall  under  the  power  of  one  supreme 
chief.  And  the  above-described  transition  from  aggregated 
tribal  and  local  groups  to  an  army  formed  of  regular 
divisions  and  sub-divisions,  goes  along  with  the  development 
of  grades  of  commanders,  successively  subordinated  one  to 
another.  A controlling  system  of  this  kind  is  developed 
by  the  uncivilized,  where  considerable  military  efficiency  has 
been  reached ; as  at  present  among  the  Araucanians,  the 
Zulus,  the  Uganda  people,  who  have  severally  three  grades  of 
officers ; as  in  the  past  among  the  ancient  Peruvians  and 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS.  487 

ancient  Mexicans,  who  had  respectively  several  grades ; and 
as  also  among  the  ancient  Hebrews. 

§ 520.  One  further  general  change  has  to  be  noticed — the 
change  from  a state  in  which  the  army  now  assembles  and 
now  disperses,  as  required,  to  a state  in  which  it  becomes 
permanently  established. 

While,  as  among  savages,  the  male  adults  are  all  warriors, 
the  fighting  body,  existing  in  its  combined  form  only  during 
war,  becomes  during  peace  a dispersed  body  carrying  on  in 
parties  or  separately,  hunting  and  other  occupations;  and 
similarly,  as  we  have  seen,  during  early  stages  of  settled  life 
the  armed  freemen,  owning  land  jointly  or  separately,  all 
having  to  serve  as  soldiers  when  called  on,  return  to  their 
farming  when  war  is  over : there  is  no  standing  army.  But 
though  after  the  compounding  of  small  societies  into  larger 
ones  by  war,  and  the  rise  of  a central  power,  a kindred  system 
long  continues,  there  come  the  beginnings  of  another  system. 
Of  course,  irrespective  of  form  of  goverment,  frequent  wars 
generate  permanent  military  forces;  as  they  did  in  early 
times  among  the  Spartans ; as  later  among  the  Athenians ; 
and  as  among  the  Romans,  when  extension  of  territory 
brought  frequent  needs  for  repressing  rebellions.  Recognizing 
these  cases,  we  may  pass  to  the  more  usual  cases,  in  which 
a permanent  military  force  originates  from  the  body  of  armed 
attendants  surrounding  the  ruler.  Early  stages  show  us 
this  nucleus.  In  Tahiti  the  king  or  chief  had  warriors 
among  his  attendants ; and  the  king  of  Ashantee  has  a body- 
guard clad  in  skins  of  wild  beasts — leopards,  panthers,  &c. 
As  was  pointed  out  when  tracing  the  process  of  political 
differentiation,  there  tend  everywhere  to  gather  round  a pre- 
dominant chieftain,  refugees  and  others  who  exchange  armed 
service  for  support  and  protection ; and  so  enable  the  pre- 
dominant chieftain  to  become  more  predominant.  Hence  the 
comites  attached  to  the  princeps  in  the  early  German  com- 
munity, the  huscarlas  or  housecarls  surrounding  old  English 


488 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


kings,  and  the  antrustions  of  the  Merovingian  rulers.  These 
armed  followers  displayed  in  little,  the  characters  of  a stand- 
ing army ; not  simply  as  being  permanently  united,  but  also 
as  being  severally  bound  to  their  prince  or  lord  by  relations 
of  personal  fealty,  and  as  being  subject  to  internal  govern- 
ment under  a code  of  martial  law,  apart  from  the  govern- 
ment of  the  freemen ; as  was  especially  shown  in  the  large 
assemblage  of  them,  amounting  to  6,000,  which  was  formed 
by  Cnut. 

In  this  last  case  we  see  how  small  body-guards,  growing  as 
the  conquering  chief  or  king  draws  to  his  standard  adven- 
turers, fugitive  criminals,  men  who  have  fled  from  injustice, 
&c.,  pass  unobtrusively  into  troops  of  soldiers  who  fight  for 
pay.  The  employment  of  mercenaries  goes  back  to  the 
earliest  times — being  traceable  in  the  records  of  the  Egyptains 
at  all  periods ; and  it  continues  to  re-appear  under  certain 
conditions : a primary  condition  being  that  the  ruler  shall 
have  acquired  a considerable  revenue.  Whether  of  home 
origin  or  foreign  origin,  these  large  bodies  of  professional 
soldiers  can  be  maintained  only  by  large  pecuniary  means  ; 
and,  ordinarily,  possession  of  these  means  goes  along  with 
such  power  as  enables  the  king  to  exact  dues  and  fines.  In 
early  stages  the  members  of  the  fighting  body,  when  sum- 
moned for  service,  have  severally  to  provide  themselves  not 
only  with  their  appropriate  arms,  but  also  with  the  needful 
supplies  of  all  kinds : there  being,  while  political  organiza- 
tion is  little  developed,  neither  the  resources  nor  the  adminis- 
trative machinery  required  for  another  system.  But  the 
economic  resistance  to  militant  action,  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  increases  as  agricultural  life  spreads,  leading  to  occa- 
sional non-attendance,  to  confiscations,  to  heavy  fines  in 
place  of  confiscations,  then  to  fixed  money-payments  in  place 
of  personal  services,  results  in  the  growth  of  a revenue  which 
serves  to  pay  professional  soldiers  in  place  of  the  vassals  who 
have  compounded.  And  it  then  becomes  possible,  instead  of 
hiring  many  such  substitutes  for  short  times,  to  hire  a smaller 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 


489 


number  continuously — so  adding  to  the  original  nucleus  of  a 
permanent  armed  force.  Every  further  increase  of  royal 
power,  increasing  the  ability  to  raise  money,  furthers  this 
differentiation.  As  Ranke  remarks  of  France,  “ standing 
armies,  imposts,  and  loans,  all  originated  together.” 

Of  course  the  primitive  military  obligation  falling  on  all 
freemen,  long  continues  to  be  shown  in  modified  ways. 
Among  ourselves,  for  instance,  there  were  the  various  laws 
under  which  men  were  bound,  according  to  their  incomes,  to 
have  in  readiness  specified  supplies  of  horses,  weapons,  and 
accoutrements,  for  themselves  and  others  when  demanded. 
Afterwards  came  the  militia-laws,  under  which  there 
fell  on  men  in  proportion  to  their  means,  the  obligations 
to  provide  duly  armed  horse-soldiers  or  foot-soldiers,  per- 
sonally or  by  substitute,  to  be  called  out  for  exercise  at 
specified  intervals  for  specified  numbers  of  days,  and  to  be 
provided  with  subsistence.  There  may  be  instanced,  again, 
such  laws  as  those  under  which  in  France,  in  the  15th  cen- 
tury, a corps  of  horsemen  was  formed  by  requiring  all  the 
parishes  to  furnish  one  each.  And  there  are  the  various  more 
modern  forms  of  conscription,  used,  now  to  raise  temporary 
forces,  and  now  to  maintain  a permanent  army.  Everywhere, 
indeed,  freemen  remain  potential  soldiers  when  not  actual 
soldiers. 

§ 521.  Setting  out  with  that  undifferentiated  state  of  the 
body  politic  in  which  the  army  is  co-extensive  with  the 
adult  male  population,  we  thus  observe  several  ways  in 
which  there  goes  on  the  evolution  which  makes  it  a 
specialized  part. 

There  is  the  restriction  in  relative  mass,  which,  first  seen 
in  the  growth  of  a slave-population,  engaged  in  work  instead 
of  war,  becomes  more  decided  as  a settled  agricultural  life 
occupies  freemen,  and  increases  the  obstacles  to  military 
service.  There  is,  again,  the  restriction  caused  by  that 
growing  costliness  of  the  individual  soldier  accompanying 


490 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  development  of  arms,  accoutrements,  and  ancillary  ap- 
pliances of  warfare.  And  there  is  the  yet  additional  restric- 
tion caused  by  the  intenser  strain  which  military  action  puts 
on  the  resources  of  a nation,  in  proportion  as  it  is  carried 
on  at  a greater  distance. 

With  separation  of  the  fighting  body  from  the  body-politic 
at  large,  there  very  generally  goes  acquirement  of  a sepa- 
rate head.  Active  militancy  ever  tends  to  maintain  union 
of  civil  rule  with  military  rule,  and  often  causes  re-union  of 
them  where  they  have  become  separate;  but  with  the 
primary  differentiation  of  civil  from  military  structures,  is 
commonly  associated  a tendency  to  the  rise  of  distinct  con- 
trolling centres  for  them.  This  tendency,  often  defeated  by 
usurpation  where  wars  are  frequent,  takes  effect  under  oppo- 
site conditions ; and  then  produces  a military  head  subordi- 
nate to  the  civil  head. 

While  the  whole  society  is  being  developed  by  differen- 
tiation of  the  army  from  the  rest,  there  goes  on  a develop- 
ment within  the  army  itself.  As  in  the  primitive  horde  the 
progress  is  from  the  uncombined  fighting  of  individuals  to 
combined  fighting  under  direction  of  a chief ; so,  on  a larger 
scale,  when  small  societies  are  united  into  great  ones,  the 
progress  is  from  the  independent  fighting  of  tribal  and  local 
groups,  to  fighting  under  direction  of  a general  commander. 
And  to  effect  a centralized  control,  there  arises  a graduated 
system  of  officers,  replacing  the  set  of  primitive  heads  of 
groups,  and  a system  of  divisions  which,  traversing  the 
original  divisions  of  groups,  establish  regularly-organized 
masses  having  different  functions. 

With  developed  structure  of  the  fighting  body  comes  per- 
manence of  it.  While,  as  in  early  times,  men  are  gathered 
together  for  small  wars  and  then  again  dispersed,  efficient 
organization  of  them  is  impracticable.  It  becomes  practicable 
only  among  men  who  are  constantly  kept  together  by  wars 
or  preparations  for  wars  ; and  bodies  of  such  men  growing  up, 
replace  the  temporarily-summoned  bodies. 


MILITARY  SYSTEMS. 


491 


Lastly,  we  must  not  omit  to  note  that  while  the  army 
becomes  otherwise  distinguished,  it  becomes  distinguished  by 
retaining  and  elaborating  the  system  of  status ; though  in  the 
rest  of  the  community,  as  it  advances,  the  system  of  contract 
is  spreading  and  growing  definite.  Compulsory  cooperation 
continues  to  be  the  principle  of  the  military  part,  however 
widely  the  principle  of  voluntary  cooperation  comes  into  play 
throughout  the  civil  part. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 

§ 522.  That  we  may  be  prepared  for  recognizing  the 
primitive  identity  of  military  institutions  with  institutions 
for  administering  justice,  let  us  observe  how  close  is  the  kin- 
ship between  the  modes  of  dealing  with  external  aggression 
and  internal  aggression,  respectively. 

We  have  the  facts,  already  more  than  once  emphasized,  that 
at  first  the  responsibilities  of  communities  to  one  another 
are  paralleled  by  the  responsibilities  to  one  another  of  family- 
groups  within  each  community ; and  that  the  kindred  claims 
are  enforced  in  kindred  ways.  Various  savage  tribes  show  us 
that,  originally,  external  war  has  to  effect  an  equalization  of 
injuries,  either  directly  in  kind  or  indirectly  by  compen- 
sations. Among  the  Chinooks,  “ has  the  one  party  a larger 
number  of  dead  than  the  other,  indemnification  must  be 
made  by  the  latter,  or  the  war  is  continued and  among  the 
Arabs  “ when  peace  is  to  be  made,  both  parties  count  up  their 
dead,  and  the  usual  blood-money  is  paid  for  excess  on  either 
side.”  By  which  instances  we  are  shown  that  in  the  wars 
between  tribes,  as  in  the  family-feuds  of  early  times,  a 
death  must  be  balanced  by  a death,  or  else  must  be  com- 
pounded for ; as  it  once  was  in  Germany  and  in  England,  by 
specified  numbers  of  sheep  and  cattle,  or  by  money. 

Not  only  are  the  wars  which  societies  carry  on  to  effect  the 
righting  of  alleged  wrongs,  thus  paralleled  by  family-feuds  in 
the  respect  that  for  retaliation  in  kind  there  may  be  substi- 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


493 


tuted  a penalty  adjudged  by  usage  or  authority;  but  they  are 
paralleled  by  feuds  between  individuals  in  the  like  respect. 
From  the  first  stage  in  which  each  man  avenges  himself  by 
force  on  a transgressing  neighbour,  as  the  whole  community 
does  on  a transgressing  community,  the  transition  is  to  a 
stage  in  which  he  has  the  alternative  of  demanding  justice  at 
the  hands  of  the  ruler.  We  see  this  beginning  in  such  places 
as  the  Sandwich  Islands,  where  an  injured  person  who  is  too 
weak  to  retaliate,  appeals  to  the  king  or  principal  chief ; and 
in  quite  advanced  stages,  option  between  the  two  methods 
of  obtaining  redress  survives.  The  feeling  shown  down  to  the 
13th  century  by  Italian  nobles,  who  “ regarded  it  as  dis- 
graceful to  submit  to  laws  rather  than  do  themselves  justice 
by  force  of  arms,”  is  traceable  throughout  the  history  of 
Europe  in  the  slow  yielding  of  private  rectification  of  wrongs 
to  public  arbitration.  “A  capitulary  of  Charles  the  Bald 
bids  them  [the  freemen]  go  to  court  armed  as  for  war,  for 
they  might  have  to  fight  for  their  jurisdiction and  our  own 
history  furnishes  an  interesting  example  in  the  early  form  of 
an  action  for  recovering  land : the  “ grand  assize  ” which  tried 
the  cause,  originally  consisted  of  knights  armed  with  swords. 
Again  we  have  evidence  in  such  facts  as  that  in  the  12  th 
century  in  France,  legal  decisions  were  so  little  regarded 
that  trials  often  issued  in  duels.  Further  proof  is  yielded  by 
such  facts  as  that  judicial  duels  (which  were  the  authorized 
substitutes  for  private  wars  between  families)  continued  in 
France  down  to  the  close  of  the  14th  century;  that  in 
England,  in  17G8,  a legislative  proposal  to  abolish  trial  by 
battle,  was  so  strongly  opposed  that  the  measure  was  dropped ; 
and  that  the  option  of  such  trial  was  not  disallowed  till  1819. 

We  may  observe,  also,  that  this  self-protection  gradually 
gives  place  to  protection  by  the  State,  only  under  stress  of 
public  needs — especially  need  fqr  military  efficiency.  Edicts 
of  Charlemagne  and  of  Charles  the  Bald,  seeking  to  stop  the 
disorders  consequent  on  private  wars,  by  insisting  on  appeals 
to  the  ordained  authorities,  and  threatening  punishment  of 


494 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


those  who  disobeyed,  sufficiently  imply  the  motive ; and  this 
motive  was  definitely  shown  in  the  feudal  period  in  France, 
by  an  ordinance  of  1296,  which  “ prohibits  private  wars  and 
judicial  duels  so  long  as  the  king  is  engaged  in  war.” 

Once  more  the  militant  nature  of  legal  protection  is  seen 
in  the  fact  that,  as  at  first,  so  now,  it  is  a replacing  of  indi- 
vidual armed  force  by  the  armed  force  of  the  State — always 
in  reserve  if  not  exercised.  “ The  sword  of  justice”  is  a 
phrase  sufficiently  indicating  the  truth  that  action  against 
the  public  enemy  and  action  against  the  private  enemy  are  in 
the  last  resort  the  same. 

Thus  recognizing  the  original  identity  of  the  functions,  we 
shall  be  prepared  for  recognizing  the  original  identity  of  the 
structures  by  which  they  are  carried  on. 

§ 523.  For  that  primitive  gathering  of  armed  men  which, 
as  we  have  seen,  is  at  once  the  council  of  war  and  the 
political  assembly,  is  at  the  same  time  the  judicial  body. 

Of  existing  savages  the  Hottentots  show  this.  The  court 
of  justice  “consists  of  the  captain  and  all  the  men  of  the 
kraal.  . . . JTis  held  in  the  open  fields,  the  men  squatting  in 
a circle.  . . . All  matters  are  determined  by  a majority.”  . . . 
If  the  prisoner  is  “ convicted,  and  the  court  adjudges  him 
worthy  of  death,  sentence  is  executed  upon  the  spot.”  The 
captain  is  chief  executioner,  striking  the  first  blow ; and  is 
followed  up  by  the  others.  The  records  of  various  historic 
peoples  yield  evidence  of  kindred  meaning.  Taking  first 
the  Greeks  in  Homeric  days,  we  read  that  “ sometimes  the 
king  separately,  sometimes  the  kings  or  chiefs  or  Gerontes, 
in  the  plural  number,  are  named  as  deciding  disputes  and 
awarding  satisfaction  to  complainants;  always  however  in 
public,  in  the  midst  of  the  assembled  agora,”  in  which 
the  popular  sympathies  were  expressed:  the  meeting  thus 
described,  being  the  same  with  that  in  which  questions 
of  war  and  peace  were  debated.  That  in  its  early  form 
the  Eoman  gathering  of  “ spearmen,”  asked  by  the  king  to 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


495 


say  “ yes  ” or  “ no ” to  a proposed  military  expedition  or  to 
some  State-measure,  also  expressed  its  opinion  concerning 
criminal  charges  publicly  judged,  is  implied  by  the  fact  that 
“ the  king  could  not  grant  a pardon,  for  that  privilege  was 
vested  in  the  community  alone.”  Describing  the  gatherings 
of  the  primitive  Germans,  Tacitus  says : — “ The  multitude 
sits  armed  in  such  order  as  it  thinks  good  ...  It  is  lawful 
also  in  the  Assembly  to  bring  matters  for  trial  and  to  bring 
charges  of  capital  crimes  ...  In  the  same  assembly  chiefs 
are  chosen  to  administer  justice  throughout  the  districts  and 
villages.  Each  chief  in  so  doing  has  a hundred  companions  of 
the  commons  assigned  to  him,  to  strengthen  at  once  his  judg- 
ment and  his  dignity.”  A kindred  arrangement  is  ascribed  by 
Lelevel  to  the  Poles  in  early  times,  and  to  the  Slavs  at  large. 
Among  the  Danes,  too,  “ in  all  secular  affairs,  justice  was 
administered  by  the  popular  tribunal  of  the  Lands- Ting  for 
each  province,  and  by  the  Herreds-Ting  for  the  smaller  dis- 
tricts or  sub-divisions.”  Concerning  the  Irish  in  past  times. 
Prof.  Leslie  quotes  Spenser  to  the  effect  that  it  was  their 
usage  “ to  make  great  assemblies  together  upon  a rath  or  hill, 
there  to  v parley  about  matters  and  wrongs  between  township 
and  township,  or  one  private  person  and  another.”  And  then 
there  comes  the  illustration  furnished  by  old  English  times. 
The  local  moots  of  various  kinds  had  judicial  functions;  and 
the  witenagemot  sometimes  acted  as  a high  court  of  justice. 

Interesting  evidence  that  the  original  military  assembly 
was  at  the  same  time  the  original  judicial  assembly,  is  sup- 
plied by  the  early  practice  of  punishing  freemen  for  non- 
attendance.  Discharge  of  military  obligation  being  imperative, 
the  fining  of  those  who  did  not  come  to  the  armed  gathering 
naturally  followed;  and  fining  for  absence  having  become 
the  usage,  survived  when,  as  for  judicial  purposes,  the  need 
for  the  presence  of  all  was  not  imperative.  Thence  the 
interpretation  of  the  fact  that  non-attendance  at  the  hundred- 
court  was  thus  punishable. 

In  this  connexion  it  may  be  added  that,  in  some  cases 


496 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


where  the  primitive  form  continued,  there  was  manifested  an 
incipient  differentiation  between  the  military  assembly  and 
the  judicial  assembly.  In  the  Carolingian  period,  judicial 
assemblies  began  to  be  held  under  cover ; and  freemen  were 
forbidden  to  bring  their  arms.  As  was  pointed  out  in  § 491, 
among  the  Scandinavians  no  one  was  allowed  to  come  armed 
when  the  meeting  was  for  judicial  purposes.  And  since  we 
also  read  that  in  Iceland  it  was  disreputable  (not  punishable) 
for  a freeman  to  be  absent  from  the  annual  gathering,  the 
implication  is  that  the  imperativeness  of  attendance  dimi- 
nished with  the  growing  predominance  of  civil  functions. 

§ 524,  The  judicial  body  being  at  first  identical  with  the 
politico-military  body,  has  necessarily  the  same  triune 
structure ; and  we  have  now  to  observe  the  different  forms  it 
assumes  according  to  the  respective  developments  of  its  three 
components.  We  may  expect  to  find  kinship  between  these 
forms  and  the  concomitant  political  forms. 

Where,  with  development  of  militant  organization,  the 
power  of  the  king  has  become  greatly  predominant  over  that 
of  the  chiefs  and  over  that  of  the  people,  his  supremacy  is 
shown  by  his  judicial  absoluteness,  as  well  as  by  his  absolute- 
ness in  political  and  military  affairs.  Such  shares  as  the 
elders  and  the  multitude  originally  had  in  trying  causes, 
almost  or  quite  disappear.  But  though  in  these  cases  the 
authority  of  the  king  as  judge,  is  unqualified  by  that  of  his 
head  men  and  his  other  subjects,  there  habitually  survive 
traces  of  the  primitive  arrangement.  For  habitually  his 
decisions  are  given  in  public  and  in  the  open  air.  Petitioners 
for  justice  bring  their  cases  before  him  when  he  makes  his 
appearance  out  of  doors,  surrounded  by  his  attendants  and 
by  a crowd  of  spectators ; as  we  have  seen  in  § 372  that  they 
do  down  to  the  present  day  in  Kashmere.  By  the  Hebrew 
rulers,  judicial  sittings  were  held  “in  the  gates” — the 
usual  meeting-places  of  Eastern  peoples.  Among  the  earty 
Romans  the  king  administered  justice  “in  the  place  of 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


497 


public  assembly,  sitting  on  a ‘ chariot-seat/  ” Mr.  Gomme’s 
Primitive  Folk-Moots  contains  sundry  illustrations  showing 
that  among  the  Germans  in  old  times,  the  Konigs-stuhl,  or 
king’s  judgment-seat,  was  on  the  green  sward ; that  in  other 
cases  the  stone  steps  at  the  town-gates  constituted  the  seat 
before  which  causes  were  heard  by  him ; and  that  again, 
in  early  French  usage,  trials  often  took  place  under  trees. 
According  to  Joinville  this  practice  long  continued  in  France. 
“ Many  a time  did  it  happen  that,  in  summer,  he  [Lewis  IX]  would  go 
and  sit  in  the  forest  of  Vincennes  after  mass,  and  would  rest  against  an 
oak,  and  make  us  sit  round  him  ...  he  asked  them  with  his  own 
mouth,  ‘ Is  there  any  one  who  has  a suit  V . . . I have  seen  him  some- 
times in  summer  come  to  hear  his  people's  suits  in  the  garden  of  Paris.” 

And  something  similar  occurred  in  Scotland  under  David  I. 
All  which  customs  among  various  peoples,  imply  survival  of 
the  primitive  judicial  assembly,  changed  only  by  concentra- 
tion in  its  head  of  power  originally  shared  by  the  leading 
men  and  the  undistinguished  mass. 

Where  the  second  component  of  the  triune  political 
structure  becomes  supreme,  this  in  its  turn  monopolizes 
judicial  functions.  Among  the  Spartans  the  oligarchic 
senate,  and  in  a measure  the  smaller  and  chance-selected 
oligarchy  constituted  by  the  ephors,  joined  judicial  functions 
with  their  political  functions.  Similarly  in  Athens  under  the 
aristocratic  rule  of  the  Eupatridse,  we  find  the  Areopagus 
formed  of  its  members,  discharging,  either  itself  or  through  its 
nine  chosen  Archons,  the  duties  of  deciding  causes  and 
executing  decisions.  In  later  days,  again,  we  have  the  case  of 
the  Venetian  council  of  ten.  And  then,  certain  incidents  of 
the  middle  ages  instructively  show  us  one  of  the  processes  by 
which  judicial  power,  as  well  as  political  power,  passes  from 
the  hands  of  the  freemen  at  large  into  the  hands  of  a 
smaller  and  wealthier  class.  In  the  Carolingian  period, 
besides  the  bi-annual  meetings  of  the  hundred- court,  it  was — 

“ convoked  at  the  Grafs  will  and  pleasure,  to  try  particular  cases  . . . 
in  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  non-attendance  was  punished  ...  it  was 
found  that  the  Grafs  used  their  right  to  summon  these  extraordinary 


498 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Courts  in  excess,  with  a view,  by  repeated  fines  and  amercements,  to 
ruin  the  small  freeholders,  and  thus  to  get  their  abodes  into  their  own 
hands.  Charlemagne  introduced  a radical  law-reform  . . . the  great 
body  of  the  freemen  were  released  from  attendance  at  the  Gebotene 
Dinge , at  which,  from  thenceforth,  justice  was  to  be  administered  under 
the  presidency,  ex  officio , of  the  Centenar , by  . . . permanent  jurymen 
. . . chosen  de  melioribus — i.e.y  from  the  more  well-to-do  freemen.” 

But  iii  other  cases,  and  especially  where  concentration 
in  a town  renders  performance  of  judicial  functions  less 
burdensome,  we  see  that  along  with  retention  or  acquire- 
ment of  predominant  power  by  the  third  element  in  the 
triune  political  structure,  there  goes  exercise  of  judicial  func- 
tions by  it.  The  case  of  Athens,  after  the  replacing  of  oli- 
garchic rule  by  democratic  rule,  is,  of  course,  the  most 
familiar  example  of  this.  The  Kleisthenian  revolution  made 
the  annually-appointed  magistrates  personally  responsible  to 
the  people  j udicially  assembled  ; and  when,  under  Perildes, 
there  were  established  the  dikasteries,  or  courts  of  paid  jurors 
chosen  by  lot,  the  administration  of  justice  was  transferred 
almost  wholly  to  the  body  of  freemen,  divided  for  convenience 
into  committees.  Among  the  Frieslanders,  who  in  early  times 
were  enabled  by  the  nature  of  their  habitat  to  maintain  a 
free  form  of  political  organization,  there  continued  the  popu- 
lar judicial  assembly: — “ When  the  commons  were  summoned 
for  any  particular  purpose,  the  assembly  took  the  name  of  the 
Bodthing.  The  bodthing  was  called  for  the  purpose  of  passing 
judgment  in  cases  of  urgent  necessity/7  And  M.  de  Laveleye, 
describing  the  Teutonic  mark  as  still  existing  in  Holland, 
“ especially  in  Drenthe/7  a tract  “ surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
a marsh  and  bog 77  (again  illustrating  the  physical  conditions 
favourable  to  maintenance  of  primitive  free  institutions),  goes 
on  to  say  of  the  inhabitants  as  periodically  assembled : — 

“ They  appeared  in  arms ; and  no  one  could  absent  himself,  under  pain 
of  a fine.  This  assembly  directed  all  the  details  as  to  the  enjoyment  of 
the  common  property ; appointed  the  works  to  be  executed ; imposed 
pecuniary  penalties  for  the  violation  of  rules,  and  nominated  the  officers 
charged  with  the  executive  power.” 

The  likeness  between  the  judicial  form  and  the  political 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


499 


form  is  further  shown  where  the  government  is  neither  despotic 
nor  oligarchic,  nor  democratic,  but  mixed.  For  in  our  own 
case  we  see  a system  of  administering  justice  which,  like  the 
political  system,  unites  authority  that  is  in  a considerable 
degree  irresponsible,  with  popular  authority.  In  old  English 
times  a certain  power  of  making  and  enforcing  local  or  “ bye- 
laws ” was  possessed  by  the  township  ; and  in  more  important 
and  definite  ways  the  hundred-moot  and  the  shire-moot  dis- 
charged judicial  and  executive  functions:  their  respective 
officers  being  at  the  same  time  elected.  But  the  subsequent 
growth  of  feudal  institutions,  followed  by  the  development  of 
royal  power,  was  accompanied  by  diminution  of  the  popular 
share  in  judicial  business,  and  an  increasing  assignment  of  it 
to  members  of  the  ruling  classes  and  to  agents  of  the  crown. 
And  at  present  we  see  that  the  system,  as  including  the 
power  of  juries  (which  arose  by  selection  of  representative 
men,  though  not  in  the  interest  of  the  people),  is  in  part 
popular ; that  in  the  summary  jurisdiction  of  unpaid  magis- 
trates who,  though  centrally  appointed,  mostly  belong  to  the 
wealthy  classes,  and  especially  the  landowners,  it  is  in  part 
aristocratic;  that  in  the  regal  commissioning  of  judges  it 
continues  monarchic  ; and  that  yet,  as  the  selection  of  magis- 
trates and  judges  is  practically  in  the  hands  of  a ministry 
executing,  on  the  average,  the  public  will,  royal  power  and 
class-power  in  the  administration  of  justice  are  exercised 
under  popular  control. 

§ 525.  A truth  above  implied  and  now  to  be  definitely 
observed,  is  that  along  with  the  consolidation  of  small  societies 
into  large  ones  effected  by  war,  there  necessarily  goes  an 
increasing  discharge  of  judicial  functions  by  deputy. 

As  the  primitive  king  is  very  generally  himself  both 
commander-in-chief  and  high  priest,  it  is  not  unnatural  that 
his  delegated  judicial  functions  should  be  fulfilled  both  by 
priests  and  soldiers.  Moreover,  since  the  consultative  body, 
where  it  becomes  established  and  separated  from  the  multi- 


500 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


tude,  habitually  includes  members  of  both  these  classes,  such 
judicial  powers  as  it  exercises  cannot  at  the  outset  be  mono- 
polized by  members  of  either.  And  this  participation  is 
further  seen  to  arise  naturally  on  remembering  how,  as  before 
shown,  priests  have  in  so  many  societies  united  military 
functions  with  clerical  functions ; and  how,  in  other  cases, 
becoming  local  rulers,  having  the  same  tenures  and  obliga- 
tions with  purely  military  local  rulers,  they  acquire,  in  com- 
mon with  them,  local  powers  of  judgment  and  execution ; as 
did  mediaeval  prelates.  Whether  the  ecclesiastical  class  or 
the  class  of  warrior-chiefs  acquires  judicial  predominance, 
probably  depends  mainly  on  the  proportion  between  men’s 
fealty  to  the  successful  soldier,  and  their  awe  of  the  priest 
as  a recipient  of  divine  communications. 

Among  the  Zulus,  who,  with  an  undeveloped  mythology, 
have  no  great  deities  and  resulting  organized  priesthood,  the 
king  “ shares  his  power  with  two  soldiers  of  his  choice.  These 
two  form  the  supreme  judges  of  the  country.”  Similarly 
with  the  Eggarahs  (Inland  Negroes),  whose  fetisli-men  do  not 
form  an  influential  order,  the  first  and  second  judges  are 
“also  commanders  of  the  forces  in  time  of  war.”  Passing 
to  historic  peoples,  we  have  in  Attica,  in  Solon’s  time,  the 
nine  archons,  who,  while  possessing  a certain  sacredness  as 
belonging  to  the  Eupatridae,  united  judicial  with  military 
functions — more  especially  the  polemarch.  In  ancient  Rome, 
that  kindred  union  of  the  two  functions  in  the  consuls, 
who  called  themselves  indiscriminately,  prwtores  or  judices, 
naturally  resulted  from  their  inheritance  of  both  functions 
from  the  king  they  replaced ; but  beyond  this  there  is  the 
fact  that  though  the  pontiffs  had  previously  been  judges  in 
secular  matters  as  well  as  in  sacred  matters,  yet,  after  the  esta- 
blishment of  the  republic,  the  several  orders  of  magistrates  were 
selected  from  the  non-clerical  patricians, — the  original  soldier- 
class.  And  then  throughout  the  middle  ages  in  Europe,  we 
have  the  local  military  chiefs,  whether  holding  positions  like 
those  of  old  English  thanes  or  like  those  of  feudal  barons,  acting 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


501 


as  judges  in  tlieir  respective  localities.  Perhaps  the  clearest 
illustration  is  that  furnished  by  Japan,  where  a long-con- 
tinued and  highly-developed  military  regime , has  been 
throughout  associated  with  the  monopoly  of  judicial  func- 
tions by  the  military  class  : the  apparent  reason  being  that 
in  presence  of  the  god-descended  Mikado,  supreme  in  heaven 
as  on  earth,  the  indigenous  Shinto  religion  never  developed 
a divine  ruler  whose  priests  acquired,  as  his  agents,  an  autho- 
rity competing  with  terrestrial  authority. 

But  mostly  there  is  extensive  delegation  of  judicial  powers 
to  the  sacerdotal  class,  in  early  stages.  We  find  it  among 
existing  uncivilized  peoples,  as  the  Kalmucks,  whose  priests, 
besides  playing  a predominant  part  in  the  greatest  judicial 
council,  exercise  local  jurisdiction ; in  the  court  of  each  sub- 
ordinate chief,  one  of  the  high  priests  is  head  judge.  Of 
extinct  uncivilized  or  semi-civilized  peoples,  may  be  named 
the  Indians  of  Yucatan,  by  whom  priests  were  appointed  as 
judges  in  certain  cases — judges  who  took  part  in  the  execu- 
tion of  their  own  sentences.  Originally,  if  not  afterwards,  the 
giving  of  legal  decisions  was  a priestly  function  in  ancient 
Egypt ; and  that  the  priests  were  supreme  judges  among 
the  Hebrews  is  a familiar  fact : the  Deuteronomic  law  con- 
demning to  death  any  one  who  disregarded  their  verdicts. 
In  that  general  assembly  of  the  ancient  Germans  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  exercised  judicial  powers,  the  priests  were 
prominent ; and,  according  to  Tacitus,  in  war  “ none  but  the 
priests  are  permitted  to  judge  offenders,  to  inflict  bonds  or 
stripes;  so  that  chastisement  appears  not  as  an  act  of  military 
discipline,  but  as  the  instigation  of  the  god  whom  they  sup- 
pose present  with  warriors.”  In  ancient  Britain,  too,  accord- 
ing to  Caesar,  the  druids  alone  had  authority  to  decide  in  both 
civil  and  criminal  cases,  and  executed  their  own  sentences : 
the  penalty  for  disobedience  to  them  being  excommunication. 
Grimm  tells  us  that  the  like  held  among  the  Scandinavians. 
“ In  their  judicial  character  the  priests  seem  to  have  exercised 
a good  deal  of  control  over  the  people  ...  In  Iceland,  even 


502 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


under  Christianity,  the  judges  retained  the  name  and  several 
of  the  functions  of  heathen  goftar  ” And  then  we  have  the 
illustration  furnished  by  that  rise  of  ecclesiastics  to  the  posi- 
tions of  judges  throughout  mediaeval  Europe,  which  accom- 
panied belief  in  their  divine  authority.  When,  as  during  the 
Merovingian  period  and  after,  “ the  fear  of  hell,  the  desire  of 
winning  heaven,”  and  other  motives,  prompted  donations  and 
bequests  to  the  Church,  till  a large  part  of  the  landed  pro- 
perty fell  into  its  hands — when  there  came  increasing 
numbers  of  clerical  aud  semi-clerical  dependents  of  the 
Church,  over  whom  bishops  exercised  judgment  and  disci- 
pline— when  ecclesiastical  influence  so  extended  itself  that, 
wdiile  priests  became  exempt  from  the  control  of  laymen,  lay 
authorities  became  subject  to  priests ; there  was  established 
a judicial  power  of  this  divinely-commissioned  class  to  which 
even  kings  succumbed.  So  was  it  in  England  too.  Before  the 
Conquest,  bishops  had  become  the  assessors  of  ealdormen  in 
the  scire-gemot,  and  gave  judgments  on  various  civil  matters. 
With  that  recrudescence  of  military  organization  which  fol- 
lowed the  Conquest,  came  a limitation  of  their  jurisdiction 
to  spiritual  offences  and  causes  concerning  clerics.  But 
in  subsequent  periods  ecclesiastical  tribunals,  bringing  under 
canon  law  numerous  ordinary  transgressions,  usurped  more 
and  more  the  duties  of  secular  judges:  their  excommuni- 
cations being  enforced  by  the  temporal  magistrates.  More- 
over, since  prelates  as  feudal  nobles  were  judges  in  their 
respective  domains  ; and  since  many  major  and  minor  judicial 
offices  in  the  central  government  were  filled  by  prelates; 
it  resulted  that  the  administration  of  justice  was  largely,  if 
not  mainly,  in  the  hands  of  priests. 

This  sharing  of  delegated  judicial  functions  between  the 
military  class  and  the  priestly  class,  with  predominance  here 
of  the  one  and  there  of  the  other,  naturally  continued  while 
there  was  no  other  class  having  wealth  and  influence.  But 
with  the  increase  of  towns  and  the  multiplication  of  traders, 
who  accumulated  riches  and  acquired  education,  previously 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


503 


possessed  only  by  ecclesiastics,  judicial  functions  fell  more 
and  more  into  their  hands.  Sundry  causes  conspired  to  pro- 
duce this  transfer.  One  was  lack  of  culture  among  the 
nobles,  and  their  decreasing  ability  to  administer  laws,  ever 
increasing  in  number  and  in  complexity.  Another  was  the 
political  unfitness  of  ecclesiastics,  who  grew  distasteful  to 
rulers  in  proportion  as  they  pushed  further  the  powers  and 
privileges  which  their  supposed  divine  commission  gave  them. 
Details  need  not  detain  us.  The  only  general  fact  needing 
to  be  emphasized,  is  that  this  transfer  ended  in  a differen- 
tiation of  structures.  For  whereas  in  earlier  stages,  judicial 
functions  were  discharged  by  men  who  were  at  the  same  time 
either  soldiers  or  priests,  they  came  now  to  be  discharged  by 
men  exclusively  devoted  to  them. 

§ 526.  Simultaneously,  the  evolution  of  judicial  systems 
is  displayed  in  several  other  ways.  One  of  them  is  the  ad- 
dition of  judicial  agents  who  are  locomotive  to  the  pre-exist- 
ing stationary  judicial  agents. 

During  the  early  stages  in  which  the  ruler  administers 
justice  in  person,  he  does  this  now  in  one  place  and  now  in 
another ; according  as  affairs,  military  or  judicial,  carry  him  to 
this  or  that  place  in  his  kingdom.  Societies  of  various  types 
in  various  times  yield  evidence.  Historians  of  ancient  Peru 
tell  us  that  “ the  Ynca  gave  sentence  according  to  the 
crime,  for  he  alone  was  judge  wheresoever  he  resided,  and 
all  persons  wronged  had  recourse  to  him.,,  Of  the  German 
emperor  in  the  12th  century  we  read  that  “ not  only  did 
he  receive  appeals,  but  his  presence  in  any  duchy  or  county 
suspended  the  functions  of  the  local  judges.”  France 
in  the  15th  century  supplies  an  instance.  King  Charles 
“ spent  two  or  three  years  in  travelling  up  and  down  the 
kingdom  . . . maintaining  justice  to  the  satisfaction  of  his 
subjects/’  In  Scotland  something  similar  was  done  by 
David  I.,  who  “ settled  marches,  forest  rights,  and  rights  of 
pasture : ” himself  making  the  marks  which  recorded  his 


504 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


decisions,  or  seeing  them  made.  In  England,  “ Edgar  and 
Canute  had  themselves  made  judicial  circuits and  there  is 
good  evidence  of  such  judicial  travels  in  England  up  to  the 
time  of  the  Great  Charter.  Sir  Henry  Maine  has  quoted 
documents  showing  that  King  John,  in  common  with  earlier 
kings,  moved  about  the  country  with  great  activity,  and  held 
his  court  wherever  he  might  happen  to  be. 

Of  course  with  the  progress  of  political  integration  and 
consequent  growing  power  of  the  central  ruler,  there  come 
more  numerous  cases  in  which  appeal  is  made  to  him  to  rectify 
the  wrongs  committed  by  local  rulers ; and  as  State-business 
at  large  augments  and  complicates,  his  inability  to  do  this 
personally  leads  to  doing  it  by  deputy.  In  France,  in  Char- 
lemagne’s time,  there  were  the  “ Missi  Regii,  who  held 
assizes  from  place  to  place  f and  then,  not  forgetting  that 
during  a subsequent  period  the  chief  heralds  in  royal  state,  as 
the  king’s  representatives,  made  circuits  to  judge  and  punish 
transgressing  nobles,  we  may  pass  to  the  fact  that  in  the  later 
feudal  period,  when  the  business  of  the  king’s  court  became 
too  great,  commissioners  were  sent  into  the  provinces  to 
judge  particular  cases  in  the  king’s  name : a method  which 
does  not  appear  to  have  been  there  developed  further.  But 
in  England,  in  Henry  II.’s  time,  kindred  causes  prompted 
kindred  steps  which  initiated  a permanent  system.  Instead 
of  listening  to  the  increasing  number  of  appeals  made  to  his 
court,  personally  or  through  his  lieutenant  the  justiciar,  the 
king  commissioned  his  constable,  chancellor,  and  co-justiciar 
to  hear  pleas  in  the  different  counties.  Later,  there  came  a 
larger  number  of  these  members  of  the  central  judicial  court 
who  made  these  judicial  journeys  : part  of  them  being  clerical 
and  part  military.  And  hence  eventually  arose  the  esta- 
blished circuits  of  judges  who,  like  their  prototypes,  had  to 
represent  the  king  and  exercise  supreme  authority. 

It  should  be  added  that  here  again  we  meet  with  proofs 
that  in  the  evolution  of  arrangements  conducing  to  the  main- 
tenance of  individual  rights,  the  obligations  are  primary  and 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS.  505 

the  claims  derived.  For  the  business  of  these  travelling 
judges,  like  the  business  of  the  king’s  court  by  which  they 
were  commissioned,  was  primarily  fiscal  and  secondarily 
judicial.  They  were  members  of  a central  body  that  was  at 
once  Exchequer  and  Curia  Regis , in  which  financial  functions 
at  first  predominated ; and  they  were  sent  into  the  provinces 
largely,  if  not  primarily,  for  purposes  of  assessment : as  in- 
stance the  statement  that  in  1168,  “ the  four  Exchequer 
officers  who  assessed  the  aid  pur  fille  marier , acted  not  only 
as  taxers  but  as  judges.”  In  which  facts  we  see  harmony 
with  those  before  given,  showing  that  support  of  the  ruling 
agency  precedes  obtainment  of  protection  from  it. 

§ 527.  With  that  development  of  a central  government 
which  accompanies  consolidation  of  small  societies  into  a large 
one,  and  with  the  consequent  increase  of  its  business,  entailing 
delegation  of  functions,  there  goes,  in  the  judicial  organiza- 
tion as  in  the  other  organizations,  a progressive  differen- 
tiation. The  evidence  of  this  is  extremely  involved;  both 
for  the  reason  that  in  most  cases  indigenous  judicial  agencies 
have  been  subordinated  but  not  destroyed  by  those  which 
conquest  has  originated,  and  for  the  reason  that  kinds  of 
power,  as  well  as  degrees  of  power,  have  become  distinguished. 
A few  leading  traits  only  of  the  process  can  here  be  indicated. 

The  most  marked  differentiation,  already  partially  implied, 
is  that  between  the  lay,  the  ecclesiastical,  and  the  military 
tribunals.  From  those  early  stages  in  which  the  popular 
assembly,  with  its  elders  and  chief,  condemned  military  de- 
faulters, decided  on  ecclesiastical  questions,  and  gave  judg- 
ments about  offences,  there  has  gone  on  a divergence  which, 
accompanied  by  disputes  and  struggles  concerning  jurisdiction, 
has  parted  ecclesiastical  courts  and  courts  martial  from  the 
courts  administering  justice  in  ordinary  civil  and  criminal 
cases.  Just  recognizing  these  cardinal  specializations,  we 
may  limit  our  attention  to  the  further  specializations  which 
have  taken  place  within  the  last  of  the  three  structures. 


506 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Originally  the  ruler,  with  or  without  the  assent  of  the 
assembled  people,  not  only  decides : he  executes  his  deci- 
sions, or  sees  them  executed.  For  example,  in  Dahomey  the 
king  stands  by,  and  if  the  deputed  officer  does  not  please 
him,  takes  the  sword  out  of  his  hand  and  shows  him 
how  to  cut  off  a head.  An  account  of  death-punishment 
among  the  Bedouins  ends  with  the  words— “ the  executioner 
being  the  sheikh  himself.”  Our  own  early  history  affords 
traces  of  personal  executive  action  by  the  king ; for  there 
came  a time  when  he  was  interdicted  from  arresting  any 
one  himself,  and  had  thereafter  to  do  it  in  all  cases  by 
deputy.  And  this  interprets  for  us  the  familiar  truth  that, 
through  his  deputies  the  sheriffs,  who  are  bound  to  act 
personally  if  they  cannot  themselves  find  deputies,  the 
monarch  continues  to  be  theoretically  the  agent  who  carries 
the  law  into  execution : a truth  further  implied  by  the  fact 
that  execution  in  criminal  cases,  nominally  authorized  by 
him  though  actually  by  his  minister,  is  arrested  if  his  assent 
is  withheld  by  his  minister.  And  these  facts  imply  that  a 
final  power  of  judgment  remains  with  the  monarch,  not- 
withstanding delegation  of  his  judicial  functions.  How  this 
happens  we  shall  see  on  tracing  the  differentiation. 

Naturally,  when  a ruler  employs  assistants  to  hear  com- 
plaints and  redress  grievances,  he  does  not  give  them  abso- 
lute authority ; but  reserves  the  power  of  revising  their 
decisions.  We  see  this  even  in  such  rude  societies  as  that 
of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  where  one  who  is  dissatisfied  with 
the  decision  of  his  chief  may  appeal  to  the  governor,  and 
from  the  governor  to  the  king;  or  as  in  ancient  Mexico, 
where  “none  of  the  judges  were  allowed  to  condemn  to  death 
without  communicating  with  the  king,  who  had  to  pass  the 
sentence.”  And  the  principle  holds  where  the  political  head- 
ship is  compound  instead  of  simple.  “ When  the  hegemony 
of  Athens  became,  in  fact,  more  and  more  a dominion,  the 
civic  body  of  Attica  claimed  supreme  judicial  authority  over 
all  the  allies.  The  federal  towns  only  retained  their  lower 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


507 


courts.”  Obviously  by  such  changes  are  produced  unlikenesses 
of  degree  and  differences  of  kind  in  the  capacities  of  judicial 
agencies.  As  political  subordination  spreads,  the  local 
assemblies  which  originally  judged  and  executed  in  cases  of 
all  kinds,  lose  part  of  their  functions;  now  by  restriction 
in  range  of  jurisdiction,  now  by  subjection  of  their  decisions 
to  supervision,  now  by  denial  of  executive  power.  To  trace 
up  the  process  from  early  stages,  as  for  instance  from  the 
stage  in  which  the  old  English  tything-moot  discharged 
administrative,  judicial,  and  executive  functions,  or  from  the 
stage  in  which  the  courts  of  feudal  nobles  did  the  like, 
is  here  alike  impracticable  and  unnecessary.  Reference  to 
such  remnants  of  power  as  vestries  and  manorial  courts 
possess,  will  sufficiently  indicate  the  character  of  the  change. 
But  along  with  degradation  of  the  small  and  local  judicial 
agencies,  goes  development  of  the  great  and  central  ones; 
and  about  this  something  must  be  said. 

Returning  to  the  time  when  the  king  with  his  servants 
and  chief  men,  surrounded  by  the  people,  administers  justice 
in  the  open  air,  and  passing  to  the  time  when  his  court,  held 
more  frequently  under  cover  and  consequently  with  less  of 
the  popular  element,  still  consists  of  king  as  president  and 
his  household  officers  with  other  appointed  magnates  as  coun- 
sellors (who  in  fact  constitute  a small  and  permanent  part 
of  that  general  consultative  body  occasionally  summoned) ; 
we  have  to  note  two  causes  which  cooperate  to  produce  a 
division  of  these  remaining  parts  of  the  original  triune  body 
— one  cause  being  the  needs  of  subjects,  and  the  other  the 
desire  of  the  king.  So  long  as  the  king’s  court  is  held 
wherever  he  happens  to  be,  there  is  an  extreme  hindrance  to 
the  hearing  of  suits,  and  much  entailed  loss  of  money  and 
time  to  suitors.  To  remedy  this  evil  came,  in  our  own 
case,  the  provision  included  in  the  Great  Charter  that  the 
common  pleas  should  no  longer  follow  the  king’s  court,  but 
be  held  in  some  certain  place.  This  place  was  fixed  in  the 
palace  of  Westminster.  And  then  as  Blackstone  points  out — 
13 


508 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTION'S. 


“This  precedent  was  soon  after  copied  by  King  Philip  the  Fair  in 
France,  who  about  the  year  1302,  fixed  the  parliament  of  Paris  to  abide 
constantly  in  that  metropolis  ; which  before  used  to  follow  the  person 
of  the  king  wherever  he  went  . . . And  thus  also,  in  1495,  the  Emperor 
Maximilian  I.  fixed  the  imperial  chamber,  which  before  always  travelled 
with  the  court  and  household,  to  be  constantly  at  Worms.” 

As  a sequence  of  these  changes  it  of  course  happens  that 
suits  of  a certain  kind  come  habitually  to  be  decided  with- 
out the  king’s  presence  : there  results  a permanent  transfer  of 
part  of  his  judicial  power.  Again,  press  of  business  or 

love  of  ease  prompts  the  king  himself  to  hand  over  such 
legal  matters  as  are  of  little  interest  to  him.  Thus  in 
France,  while  we  read  that  Charles  V.,  when  regent,  sat  in 
his  council  to  administer  justice  twice  a week,  and  Charles  YI. 
once,  we  also  read  that  in  1370  the  king  declared  he  would 
no  longer  try  the  smaller  causes  personally.  Once  initiated 
and  growing  into  a usage,  this  judging  by  commission,  be- 
coming more  frequent  as  affairs  multiply,  is  presently  other- 
wise furthered : there  arises  the  doctrine  that  the  king  ought 
not,  at  any  rate  in  certain  cases,  to  join  in  judgment.  Thus 
“at  the  trial  of  the  duke  of  Brittany  in  1378,  the  peers  of 
France  protested  against  the  presence  of  the  king.”  Again 
<£  at  the  trial  of  the  Marquis  of  Saluces,  under  Francis  I., 
that  monarch  was  made  to  see  that  he  could  not  sit.”  When 
Lewis  XIII.  wished  to  be  judge  in  the  case  of  the  Duke  de 
la  Yalette,  he  was  resisted  by  the  judges,  who  said  that  it 
was  without  precedent.  And  in  our  own  country  there  came 
a time  when  “James  I.  was  informed  by  the  judges  that  he 
had  the  right  to  preside  in  the  court,  but  not  to  express  his 
opinion:”  a step  towards  that  exclusion  finally  reached. 

While  the  judicial  business  of  the  political  head  thus  lapses 
into  the  hands  of  appointed  agencies,  these  agencies  them- 
selves, severally  parting  with  certain  of  their  functions  one  to 
another,  become  specialized.  Among  ourselves,  even  before 
there  took  place  the  above-named  separation  of  the  per- 
manently-localized court  of  common  pleas,  from  the  king’s 
court  which  moved  about  with  him,  there  had  arisen  within 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


509 


the  king’s  court  an  incipient  differentiation.  Causes  concern- 
ing revenue  were  dealt  with  in  sittings  distinguished  from 
the  general  sittings  of  the  king’s  court,  by  being  held  in 
another  room ; and  establishment  of  this  custom  produced 
a division.  Adaptation  of  its  parts  to  unlike  ends  led  to 
divergence  of  them;  until,  out  of  the  original  Curia  Regis,  had 
come  the  court  of  exchequer  and  the  court  of  common  pleas ; 
leaving  behind  the  court  of  king’s  bench  as  a remnant  of  the 
original  body.  When  the  office  of  justiciar  (who,  represent- 
ing the  king  in  his  absence,  presided  over  these  courts)  was 
abolished,  the  parting  of  them  became  decided ; and  though, 
for  a length  of  time,  competition  for  fees  led  to  trenching  on 
one  another’s  functions,  yet,  eventually,  their  functions 
became  definitely  marked  off*.  A further  important 

development,  different  but  allied,  took  place.  We  have  seen 
that  when  appointing  others  to  judge  for  him,  the  king 
reserves  the  power  of  deciding  in  cases  which  the  law 
has  not  previously  provided  for,  and  also  the  power  of 
supervising  the  decisions  made  by  his  deputies.  Naturally 
this  power  comes  to  be  especially  used  to  over-ride  deci- 
sions which,  technically  according  to  law,  are  practically 
unjust:  the  king  acquires  an  equity  jurisdiction.  At  first 
exercised  personally,  this  jurisdiction  is  liable  to  be  deputed ; 
and  in  our  own  case  was  so.  The  chancellor,  one  of  the 
king’s  servants,  who  “ as  a baron  of  the  exchequer  and  as  a 
leading  member  of  the  curia”  had  long  possessed  judicial  func- 
tions, and  who  was  the  officer  to  present  to  the  king  petitions 
concerning  these  “ matters  of  grace  and  favour,”  became 
presently  himself  the  authority  who  gave  decisions  in  equity 
qualifying  the  decisions  of  law ; and  thus  in  time  resulted 
the  court  of  chancery.  Minor  courts  with  minor  functions 
also  budded  out  from  the  original  Curia  Regis.  This  body 
included  the  chief  officers  of  the  king’s  household,  each  of 
whom  had  a jurisdiction  in  matters . pertaining  to  liis  special 
business ; and  hence  resulted  the  court  of  the  chamberlain, 
the  court  of  the  steward,  the  court  of  the  earl  marshal  (now 


510 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


at  Herald’s  College),  the  court  of  the  constable  (no  longer 
extant),  the  court  of  the  admiral,  &c. 

In  brief,  then,  we  find  proofs  that,  little  trace  as  its  struc- 
ture now  shows  of  such  an  origin,  our  complex  judicial 
system,  alike  in  its  supreme  central  parts  and  in  its  various 
small  local  parts,  has  evolved  by  successive  changes  out  of 
the  primitive  gathering  of  people,  head  men,  and  chief. 

§ 528.  Were  further  detail  desirable,  there  might  here  be 
given  an  account  of  police-systems  ; showing  their  evolution 
from  the  same  primitive  triune  body  whence  originate  the 
several  organizations  delineated  in  this  and  preceding  chapters. 
As  using  force  to  subdue  internal  aggressors,  police  are  like 
soldiers,  who  use  force  to  subdue  external  aggressors ; and  the 
two  functions,  originally  one,  are  not  even  now  quite  sepa- 
rated either  in  their  natures  or  their  agents.  For  besides 
being  so  armed  that  they  are  in  some  countries  scarcely  dis- 
tinguishable from  soldiers,  and  besides  being  subject  to  mili- 
tary discipline,  the  police  are,  in  case  of  need,  seconded  by 
soldiers  in  the  discharging  of  their  duties.  To  indicate  the 
primitive  identity  it  will  suffice  to  name  two  facts.  During 
the  Merovingian  period  in  France,  armed  bands  of  serfs, 
attached  to  the  king’s  household  and  to  the  households 
of  dukes,  were  employed  both  as  police  and  for  garrison  pur- 
poses ; and  in  feudal  England,  tlie  posse  comitcttus , consisting 
of  all  freemen  between  fifteen  and  sixty,  under  command 
of  the  sheriff,  was  the  agent  for  preserving  internal  peace  at 
the  same  time  that  it  was  available  for  repelling  invasions, 
though  not  for  foreign  service — an  incipient  differentiation 
between  the  internal  and  external  defenders  which  became 
in  course  of  time  more  marked.  Letting  this  brief  indication 
suffice,  it  remains  only  to  sum  up  the  conclusions  above 
reached. 

Evidences  of  sundry  kinds  unite  in  showing  that  judicial 
action  and  military  action,  ordinarily  having  for  their  common 
end  the  rectification  of  real  or  alleged  wrongs,  are  closely 


JUDICIAL  AND  EXECUTIVE  SYSTEMS. 


511 


allied  at  the  outset.  The  sword  is  the  ultimate  resort  in 
either  case : use  of  it  being  in  the  one  case  preceded  by  a 
wTar  of  words  carried  on  before  some  authority  whose  aid  is 
invoked,  while  in  the  other  case  it  is  not  so  preceded.  As 
is  said  by  Sir  Henry  Maine,  “the  fact  seems  to  be  that 
contention  in  Court  takes  the  place  of  contention  in  arms, 
but  only  gradually  takes  its  place.” 

Thus  near  akin  as  the  judicial  and  military  actions  origi- 
nally are,  they  are  naturally  at  first  discharged  by  the  same 
agency — the  primitive  triune  body  formed  of  chief,  head  men, 
and  people.  This  which  decides  on  affairs  of  war  and  settles 
questions  of  public  policy,  also  gives  judgments  concerning 
alleged  wrongs  of  individuals  and  enforces  its  decisions. 

According  as  the  social  activities  develop  one  or  other 
element  of  the  primitive  triune  body,  there  results  one  or 
other  form  of  agency  for  the  administration  of  law.  If 
continued  militancy  makes  the  ruling  man  all-powerful,  he 
becomes  absolute  judicially  as  in  other  ways  : the  people  lose 
all  share  in  giving  decisions,  and  the  judgments  of  the  chief 
men  who  surround  him  are  overridden  by  his.  If  con- 
ditions favour  the  growth  of  the  chief  men  into  an  oligarchy, 
the  body  they  form  becomes  the  agent  forjudging  and  punish- 
ing offences  as  for  other  purposes : its  acts  being  little  or  not 
at  all  qualified  by  the  opinion  of  the  mass.  While  if  the  sur- 
rounding circumstances  and  mode  of  life  are  such  as  to 
prevent  supremacy  of  one  man,  or  of  the  leading  men,  its 
primitive  judicial  power  is  preserved  by  the  aggregate  of 
freemen — or  is  regained  by  it  where  it  re-acquires  predomi- 
nance. And  where  the  powers  of  these  three  elements  are 
mingled  in  the  political  organization,  they  are  also  mingled 
in  the  judicial  organization. 

In  those  cases,  forming  the  great  majority,  in  which 
habitual  militancy  entails  subjection  of  the  people,  partial  or 
complete,  and  in  which,  consequently,  political  power  and 
judicial  power  come  to  be  exercised  exclusively  by  the  several 
orders  of  chief  men,  the  judicial  organization  which  arises  as 


512 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  society  enlarges  and  complicates,  is  officered  by  the 
sacerdotal  class,  or  the  military  class,  or  partly  the  one  and 
partly  the  other:  their  respective  shares  being  apparently 
dependent  on  the  ratio  between  the  degree  of  conscious 
subordination  to  the  human  ruler  and  the  degree  of  conscious 
subordination  to  the  divine  ruler,  whose  will  the  priests  are 
supposed  to  communicate.  But  with  the  progress  of  indus- 
trialism and  the  rise  of  a class  which,  acquiring  property  and 
knowledge,  gains  consequent  influence,  the  judicial  system 
comes  to  be  largely,  and  at  length  chiefly,  officered  by  men 
derived  from  this  class ; and  these  men  become  distinguished 
from  their  predecessors  not  only  as  being  of  other  origin, 
but  also  as  being  exclusively  devoted  to  judicial  functions. 

While  there  go  on  changes  of  this  kind,  there  go  on 
changes  by  which  the  origin  ally-simple  and  comparatively- 
uniform  judicial  system,  is  rendered  increasingly  complex. 
Where,  as  in  ordinary  cases,  there  has  gone  along  with 
achievement  of  supremacy  by  the  king,  a monopolizing 
of  judicial  authority  by  him,  press  of  business  presently 
obliges  him  to  appoint  others  to  try  causes  and  give  judg- 
ments : subject  of  course  to  his  approval.  Already  his  court, 
originally  formed  of  himself,  his  chief  men,  and  the  sur- 
rounding people,  has  become  supreme  over  courts  constituted 
in  analogous  ways  of  local  magnates  and  their  inferiors — so 
initiating  a differentiation ; and  now  by  delegating  certain  of 
his  servants  or  assessors,  at  first  with  temporary  commissions 
to  hear  appeals  locally,  and  then  as  permanent  itinerant  judges, 
a further  differentiation  is  produced.  And  to  this  are  added 
yet  further  differentiations,  kindred  in  nature,  by  which  other 
assessors  of  his  court  are  changed  into  the  heads  of 
specialized  courts,  which  divide  its  business  among  them. 
Though  this  particular  course  has  been  taken  in  but  a single 
case,  yet  it  serves  to  exemplify  the  general  principle  under 
which,  in  one  way  or  other,  there  arises  out  of  the  primitive 
simple  judicial  body,  a centralized  and  heterogeneous  judicial 
organization. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

LAWS. 

§ 529.  If,  going  back  once  more  to  tlie  primitive  horde,  we 
ask  what  happens  when  increase  of  numbers  necessitates 
migration — if  we  ask  what  it  is  which  causes  the  migrating 
part  to  fall  into  social  arrangements  like  those  of  the  parent 
part,  and  to  behave  in  the  same  way ; the  obvious  reply  is 
that  the  inherited  natures  of  its  members,  regulated  by  the 
ideas  transmitted  from  the  past,  cause  these  results.  That  \ 
guidance  by  custom  which  we  everywhere  find  among  rude  1 
peoples,  is  the  sole  conceivable  guidance  at  the  outset. 

To  recall  vividly  the  truth  set  forth  in  § 467,  that  the  rudest 
men  conform  their  lives  to  ancestral  usages,  I may  name  such 
further  illustrations  as  that  the  Sandwich  Islanders  had 
“ a kind  of  traditionary  code  . . . followed  by  general  con- 
sent ; ” and  that  by  the  Bechuanas,  government  is  carried  on 
according  to  “ long-acknowledged  customs/'  A more  specific 
statement  is  that  made  by  Mason  concerning  the  Karens, 
among  whom  “ the  elders  are  the  depositaries  of  the  laws,  both 
moral  and  political,  both  civil  and  criminal,  and  they  give 
them  as  they  receive  them,  and  as  they  have  been  brought 
down  from  past  generations”  orally.  Here,  however,  we 
have  chiefly  to  note  that  this  government  by  custom,  persists 
through  long  stages  of  progress,  and  even  still  largely  in- 
fluences judicial  administration.  Instance  the  fact  that  as 
late  as  the  14th  century  in  France,  an  ordinance  declared  that 
“ the  whole  kingdom  is  regulated  by  ‘ custom,'  and  it  is  as 


514 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


‘ custom’  that  some  of  our  subjects  make  use  of  the  written 
law."  Instance  the  fact  that  our  own  Common  Law  is  mainly 
an  embodiment  of  the  “ customs  of  the  realm/’  which  have 
gradually  become  established : its  older  part,  nowhere  existing 
in  the  shape  of  enactment,  is  to  be  learnt  only  from  text- 
books ; and  even  parts,  such  as  mercantile  law,  elaborated  in 
modern  times,  are  known  only  through  reported  judgments, 
given  in  conformity  with  usages  proved  to  have  been  pre- 
viously followed.  Instance  again  the  fact,  no  less  signi- 
ficant, that  at  the  present  time  custom  perpetually  re-appears 
as  a living  supplementary  factor ; for  it  is  only  after  judges’ 
decisions  have  established  precedents  which  pleaders  after- 
wards quote,  and  subsequent  judges  follow,  that  the  applica- 
tion of  an  act  of  parliament  becomes  settled.  So  that  while 
in  the  course  of  civilization  written  law  tends  to  replace 
traditional  usage,  the  replacement  never  becomes  complete. 

| And  here  we  are  again  reminded  that  law,  whether  written 
or  unwritten,  formulates  the  rule  of  the  dead  over  the  living. 
In  addition  to  that  power  which  past  generations  exercise 
over  present  generations  by  transmitting  their  natures,  bodily 
and  mental ; and  in  addition  to  the  power  they  exercise  over 
them  by  bequeathed  private  habits  and  modes  of  life ; there 
is  this  power  they  exercise  through  these  regulations  for 
public  conduct  handed  down  orally  or  in  writing.  Among 
savages  and  in  barbarous  societies,  the  authority  of  laws  thus 
derived  is  unqualified ; and  even  in  advanced  stages  of  civili- 
zation, characterized  by  much  modifying  of  old  laws  and 
making  of  new  ones,  conduct  is  controlled  in  a far  greater 
degree  by  the  body  of  inherited  laws  than  by  those  laws 
which  the  living  make. 

I emphasize  these  obvious  truths  for  the  purpose  of  point- 
ing out  that  they  imply  a tacit  ancestor-worship.  I wish  to 
make  it  clear  that  when  asking  in  any  case — What  is  the 
Law?  we  are  asking — What  was  the  dictate  of  our  fore- 
fathers ? And  my  object  in  doing  this  is  to  prepare  the  way 
for  showing  that  unconscious  conformity  to  the  dictates  of  the 


LAWS. 


515 


dead,  thus  shown,  is,  in  early  stages,  joined  with  conscious 
conformity  to  their  dictates. 

§ 530.  For  along  with  development  of  the  ghost-theory, 
there  arises  the  practice  of  appealing  to  ghosts,  and  to  the  gods 
evolved  from  ghosts,  for  directions  in  special  cases,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  general  directions  embodied  in  customs.  There 
come  methods  by  which  the  will  of  the  ancestor,  or  the  dead 
chief,  or  the  derived  deity,  is  sought ; and  the  reply  given, 
usually  referring  to  a particular  occasion,  originates  in  some 
cases  a precedent,  from  which  there  results  a law  added  to  the 
body  of  laws  the  dead  have  transmitted. 

The  seeking  of  information  and  advice  from  ghosts,  takes 
here  a supplicatory  and  there  a coercive  form.  The  Yeddahs, 
who  ask  the  spirits  of  their  ancestors  for  aid,  believe  that 
in  dreams  they  tell  them  where  to  hunt ; and  then  we  read 
of  the  Scandinavian  diviners,  that  they  “ dragged  the  ghosts 
of  the  departed  from  their  tombs  and  forced  the  dead  to  tell 
them  what  would  happen cases  which  remind  us  that 
among  the  Hebrews,  too,  there  were  supernatural  directions 
given  in  dreams  as  well  as  information  derived  from  invoked 
spirits.  This  tendency  to  accept  special  guidance  from  the 
dead,  in  addition  to  the  general  guidance  of  an  inherited  code, 
is  traceable  in  a transfigured  shape  even  among  ourselves  ; for 
besides  conforming  to  the  orally-declared  wish  of  a deceased 
parent,  children  are  often  greatly  influenced  in  their  conduct 
by  considering  what  the  deceased  parent  would  have  desired 
or  advised:  his  imagined  injunction  practically  becomes  a 
supplementary  law. 

Here,  however,  we  are  chiefly  concerned  with  that  more 
developed  form  of  such  guidance  which  results  where  the 
spirits  of  distinguished  men,  regarded  with  special  fear  and 
trust,  become  deities.  Ancient  Egyptian  hieroglyphics  reveal 
two  stages  of  it.  The  “ Instructions  ” recorded  by  King 
Easlfotephet  are  given  by  his  father  in  a dream.  “ Son  of  the 
Sun  Amenemhat — deceased  : — He  says  in  a dream — unto  his 


516 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


son  the  Lord  intact, — he  says  rising  up  like  a god  : — Listen 
to  what  I speak  unto  thee/”  And  then  another  tablet 
narrates  how  Thothmes  IV,  travelling  when  a prince,  and 
taking  his  siesta  in  the  shade  of  the  Sphinx,  was  spoken  to  in  a 
dream  by  that  god,  who  said — “ Look  at  me ! . . . Answer 
me  that  you  will  do  me  what  is  in  my  heart  ” &c. ; and  when 
he  ascended  the  throne,  Thothmes  fulfilled  the  injunction. 
Analogous  stages  were  well  exemplified  among  the  ancient 
Peruvians.  There  is  a tradition  that  Huayna  Ccapac,  wish- 
ing to  marry  his  second  sister,  applied  for  assent  to  the  dead 
body  of  his  father;  “but  the  dead  body  gave  no  answer, 
while  fearful  signs  appeared  in  the  heavens,  portending 
blood.”  Moreover,  as  before  pointed  out  in  § 477,  “ the  Ynca 
gave  them  (the  vassals)  to  understand  that  all  he  did  with 
regard  to  them  was  by  an  order  and  revelation  of  his  father, 
the  Sun.”  Turning  to  extant  races,  we  see  that  in  the  Poly- 
nesian Islands,  where  the  genesis  of  a pantheon  by  ancestor 
worship  is  variously  exemplified,  divine  direction  is  habitually 
sought  through  priests.  Among  the  Tahitians,  one  “ mode  by 
which  the  god  intimated  his  will,”  was  to  enter  the  priest, 
who  then  “ spoke  as  entirely  under  supernatural  influence.” 
Mariner  tells  us  that  in  Tonga,  too,  when  the  natives  wished 
to  consult  the  gods,  there  was  a ceremony  of  invocation;  and 
the  inspired  priest  then  uttered  the  divine  command.  Similar 
beliefs  and  usages  are  described  by  Turner  as  existing  in 
Samoa.  Passing  to  another  region,  we  find  among  the  Todas 
of  the  Indian  hills,  an  appeal  for  supernatural  guidance  in 
judicial  matters. 

“ When  any  dispute  arises  respecting  their  wives  or  their  buffaloes,  it 
has  to  be  decided  by  the  priest,  who  affects  to  become  possessed  by  the 
Bell-god,  and  . . . pronounces  the  deity’s  decision  upon  the  point  in 
dispute.” 

These  instances  serve  to  introduce  and  interpret  for  us 
those  which  the  records  of  historic  peoples  yield.  Taking 
first  the  Hebrews,  we  have  the  familiar  fact  that  the  laws 
for  general  guidance  were  supposed  to  be  divinely  communi- 
cated ; and  we  have  the  further  fact  that  special  directions 


LAWS. 


517 


were  often  sought.  Through  the  priest  who  accompanied 
the  army,  the  commander  “ inquired  of  the  Lord  ” about  any 
military  movement  of  importance,  and  sometimes  received 
very  definite  orders ; as  when,  before  a battle  with  the 
Philistines,  David  is  told  to  “ fetch  a compass  behind  them, 
and  come  upon  them  over  against  the  mulberry  trees.” 
Sundry  Ayran  peoples  furnish  evidence.  In  common  with 
other  Indian  codes,  the  code  of  Manu,  “ according  to  Hindoo 
mythology,  is  an  emanation  from  the  supreme  God.”  So, 
too,  was  it  with  the  Greeks.  Hot  forgetting  the  tradition 
that  by  an  ancient  Cretan  king,  a body  of  laws  was  brought 
down  from  the  mountain  where  Jupiter  was  said  to  be  buried, 
we  may  pass  to  the  genesis  of  laws  from  special  divine  com- 
mands, as  implied  in  the  Homeric  poems.  Speaking  of  these 
Grote  says  : — 

“ The  appropriate  Greek  word  for  human  laws  never  occurs  : amidst  a 
very  wavering  phraseology,  we  can  detect  a gradual  transition  from  the 
primitive  idea  of  a personal  goddess,  Themis,  attached  to  Zeus,  first  to 
his  sentences  or  orders  called  Themistes,  and  next  by  a still  farther 
remove  to  various  established  customs  which  those  sentences  were 
believed  to  sanctify — the  authority  of  religion  and  that  of  custom 
coalescing  into  one  indivisible  obligation.” 

Congruous  in  nature  was  the  belief  that  “ Lycurgus  ob- 
tained not  only  his  own  consecration  to  the  office  of  legis- 
lator, but  his  laws  themselves  from  the  mouth  of  the  Delphic 
God.”  To  which  add  that  we  have  throughout  later  Greek 
times,  the  obtainment  of  special  information  and  direc- 
tion through  oracles.  Evidence  that  among  the  Eomans  there 
had  occurred  a kindred  process,  is  supplied  by  the  story  that 
the  ancient  laws  were  received  by  Numa  from  the  goddess 
Egeria ; and  that  Huma  appointed  augurs  by  whose  inter- 
pretation of  signs  the  will  of  the  gods  was  to  be  ascertained. 
Even  in  the  9th  century,  under  the  Carolingians,  there  were 
brought  before  the  nobles  “ articles  of  law  named  capitula , 
which  the  king  himself  had  drawn  up  by  the  inspiration  of 
God.” 

Without  following  out  the  influence  of  like  beliefs  in  later 


518 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


times,  as  seen  in  trial  by  ordeal  and  trial  by  judicial 
combat,  in  both  of  which  God  was  supposed  indirectly  to 
give  judgment,  the  above  evidence  makes  it  amply  manifest 
that,  in  addition  to  those  injunctions  definitely  expressed,  or 
embodied  in  usages  tacitly  accepted  from  seniors  and 
through  them  from  remote  ancestors,  there  are  further  in- 
junctions more  consciously  attributed  to  supernatural  beings 
— either  the  ghosts  of  parents  and  chiefs  who  were  personally 
known,  or  the  ghosts  of  more  ancient  traditionally-known 
chiefs  which  have  been  magnified  into  gods.  Whence  it 
follows  that  originally,  under  both  of  its  forms,  law  embodies 
the  dictates  of  the  dead  to  the  living. 

§ 531.  And  here  we  are  at  once  shown  how  it  happens  that 
throughout  early  stages  of  social  evolution,  no  distinction  is 
made  between  sacred  law  and  secular  law.  Obedience  to 
established  injunctions  of  whatever  kind,  originating  in 
reverence  for  supposed  supernatural  beings  of  one  or  other 
order,  it  results  that  at  first  all  these  injunctions  have  the 
same  species  of  authority. 

The  Egyptian  wall-sculptures,  inscriptions,  and  papyri, 
everywhere  expressing  subordination  of  the  present  to  the 
past,  show  us  the  universality  of  the  religious  sanction  for 
rules  of  conduct.  Of  the  Assyrians  Layard  says  : — 

“ The  intimate  connection  between  the  public  and  private  life  of  the 
Assyrians  and  their  religion,  is  abundantly  proved  by  the  sculptures. 
...  As  among  most  ancient  Eastern  nations,  not  only  all  public  and 
social  duties,  but  even  the  commonest  forms  and  customs,  appear  to 
have  been  more  or  less  influenced  by  religion.  . . . All  his  [the  king’s] 
acts,  whether  in  war  or  peace,  appear  to  have  been  connected  with  the 
national  religion,  and  were  believed  to  be  under  the  special  protection 
and  superintendence  of  the  deity.” 

That  among  the  Hebrews  there  existed  a like  connexion,  is 
conspicuously  shown  us  in  the  Pentateuch ; where,  besides 
the  commandments  specially  so-called,  and  besides  religious 
ordinances  regulating  feasts  and  sacrifices,  the  doings  of  the 
priests,  the  purification  by  scapegoat,  &e.,  there  are  numerous 


LAWS. 


519 


directions  for  daily  conduct — directions  concerning  kinds  of 
food  and  modes  of  cooking ; directions  for  proper  farming  in 
respect  of  periodic  fallows,  not  sowing  mingled  grain,  &c. ; 
directions  for  the  management  of  those  in  bondage,  male  and 
female,  and  the  payment  of  hired  labourers  ; directions  about 
trade-transactions  and  the  sales  of  lands  and  houses ; along 
with  sumptuary  laws  extending  to  the  quality  and  fringes  of 
garments  and  the  shaping  of  beards:  instances  sufficiently 
showing  that  the  rules  of  living,  down  even  to  small  details, 
had  a divine  origin  equally  with  the  supreme  laws  of  con- 
duct. The  like  was  true  of  the  Ayrans  in  early  stages. 
The  code  of  Manu  was  a kindred  mixture  of  sacred  and 
secular  regulations — of  moral  dictates  and  rules  for  carrying 
on  ordinary  affairs.  Says  Tiele  of  the  Greeks  after  the  Doric 
migration “ No  new  political  institutions,  no  fresh  culture, 
no  additional  games,  were  established  without  the  sanction  of 
the  Pythian  oracle.”  And  again  we  read — 

" Chez  les  Grecs  et  cliez  les  Eomains,  comme  chez  les  Hindous,  la  loi  fut 
d’abord  une  partie  de  la  religion.  Les  anciens  codes  des  cites  etaient 
un  ensemble  de  rites  de  prescriptions  liturgiques  de  prieres,  en  meme 
temps  que  de  dispositions  legislatives.  Les  regies  du  droit  de  propriety 
et  du  droit  de  succession  y etaient  eparses  au  milieu  des  regies  des 
sacrifices,  de  la  sepulture  et  du  culte  des  morts.” 

Originating  in  this  manner,  law  acquires  stability.  Possess- 
ing a supposed  supernatural  sanction,  its  rules  have  a rigidity 
enabling  them  to  restrain  men’s  actions  in  greater  degrees 
than  could  any  rules  having  an  origin  recognized  as  natural. 
They  tend  thus  to  produce  settled  social  arrangements  ; both 
directly,  by  their  high  authority,  and  indirectly  by  limiting 
the  actions  of  the  living  ruler.  As  was  pointed  out  in  § 468, 
early  governing  agents,  not  daring  to  transgress  inherited 
usages  and  regulations,  are  practically  limited  to  interpreting 
and  enforcing  them : their  legislative  power  being  exercised 
only  in  respect  of  matters  not  already  prescribed  for.  Thus 
of  the  ancient  Egyptians  we  read : — “ It  was  not  on  his 
[the  king’s]  own  will  that  his  occupations  depended,  but  on 
those  rules  of  duty  and  propriety  which  the  wisdom  of  his 


520 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


ancestors  had  framed,  with  a just  regard  for  the  welfare  of 
the  king  and  of  his  people.”  And  how  persistent  is  this 
authority  of  the  sanctified  past  over  the  not-yet-sanctified 
present,  we  see  among  ourselves,  in  the  fact  that  every  legis- 
lator has  to  bind  himself  by  oath  to  maintain  certain  political 
arrangements  which  our  ancestors  thought  good  for  us. 

While  the  unchangeableness  of  law,  due  to  its  supposed 
sacred  origin,  greatly  conduces  to  social  order  during  those 
early  stages  in  wThich  strong  restraints  are  most  needed,  there 
of  course  results  an  unadaptiveness  w’hich  impedes  progress 
when  there  arise  new  conditions  to  be  met.  Hence  come  into 
use  those  “ legal  fictions,”  by  the  aid  of  which  nominal 
obedience  is  reconciled  with  actual  disobedience.  Alike  in 
Roman  law  and  in  English  law,  as  pointed  out  by  Sir  Henry 
Maine,  legal  fictions  have  been  the  means  of  modifying 
statutes  which  were  transmitted  as  immutable  ; and  so  fitting 
them  to  new  requirements : thus  uniting  stability  with  that 
plasticity  which  allows  of  gradual  transformation. 

§ 532.  Such  being  the  origin  and  nature  of  laws,  it  becomes 
manifest  that  the  cardinal  injunction  must  be  obedience. 
Conformity  to  each  particular  direction  pre-supposes  allegiance 
to  the  authority  giving  it ; and  therefore  the  imperativeness 
of  subordination  to  this  authority  is  primary. 

That  direct  acts  of  insubordination,  shown  in  treason  and 
rebellion,  stand  first  in  degree  of  criminality,  evidently  fol- 
lows. This  truth  is  seen  at  the  present  time  in  South 
Africa.  “ According  to  a horrible  law  of  the  Zulu  despots, 
when  a chief  is  put  to  death  they  exterminate  also  his  sub- 
jects.” It  was  illustrated  by  the  ancient  Peruvians,  among 
whom  “ a rebellious  city  or  province  was  laid  waste,  and  its 
inhabitants  exterminated ; ” and  again  by  the  ancient  Mexi- 
cans, by  whom  one  guilty  of  treachery  to  the  king  “ was  put 
to  death,  with  all  his  relations  to  the  fourth  degree.”  A 
like  extension  of  punishment  occurred  in  past  times  in  Japan, 
where,  when  “ the  offence  is  committed  against  the  state, 


LAWS. 


521 


punishment  is  inflicted  upon  the  whole  race  of  the  offender  ” 
Of  efforts  thus  wholly  to  extinguish  families  guilty  of  dis- 
loyalty, the  Merovingians  yielded  an  instance : king  Gunt- 
chram  swore  that  the  children  of  a certain  rebel  should  be 
destroyed  up  to  the  ninth  generation.  And  these  examples 
naturally  recall  those  furnished  by  Hebrew  traditions.  When 
Abraham,  treating  Jahveh  as  a terrestrial  superior  (just  as 
existing  Bedouins  regard  as  god  the  most  powerful  living 
ruler  known  to  them)  entered  into  a covenant  under  which, 
for  territory  given,  he,  Abraham,  became  a vassal,  circumcision 
was  the  prescribed  badge  of  subordination ; and  the  sole 
capital  offence  named  was  neglect  of  circumcision,  implying 
insubordination  : J ahveh  elsewhere  announcing  himself  as  “ a 
jealous  god,”  and  threatening  punishment  “ upon  the  children 
unto  the  third  and  fourth  generation  of  them  that  hate  me.” 
And  the  truth  thus  variously  illustrated,  that  during  stages  in 
which  maintenance  of  authority  is  most  imperative,  direct  dis- 
loyalty is  considered  the  blackest  of  crimes,  we  trace  down 
through  later  stages  in  such  facts  as  that,  in  feudal  days,  so 
long  as  the  fealty  of  a vassal  was  duly  manifested,  crimes, 
often  grave  and  numerous,  were  overlooked. 

Less  extreme  in  its  flagitiousness  than  the  direct  dis- 
obedience implied  by  treason  and  rebellion,  is,  of  course,  the 
indirect  disobedience  implied  by  breach  of  commands.  This, 
however,  where  strong  rule  has  been  established,  is  regarded 
as  a serious  offence,  quite  apart  from,  and  much  exceeding,  that 
which  the  forbidden  act  intrinsically  involves.  Its  greater 
gravity  was  distinctly  enunciated  by  the  Peruvians,  among 
whom,  says  Garcilasso,  “ the  most  common  punishment  was 
death,  for  they  said  that  a culprit  was  not  punished  for  the 
delinquencies  he  had  committed,  but  for  having  broken  the 
commandment  of  the  Ynca,  who  was  respected  as  God.”  The 
like  conception  meets  us  in  another  country  where  the  ab- 
solute ruler  is  regarded  as  divine.  Sir  E.  Alcock  quotes 
Thunberg  to  the  effect  that  in  Japan,  “ most  crimes  are 
punished  with  death,  a sentence  which  is  inflicted  with  less 


522 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


regard  to  the  magnitude  of  the  crime  than  to  the  audacity  of 
the  attempt  to  transgress  the  hallowed  laws  of  the  empire.” 
And  then,  beyond  the  criminality  which  disobeying  the  ruler 
involves,  there  is  the  criminality  involved  by  damaging  the 
ruler’s  property,  where  his  subjects  and  their  services  belong 
wholly  or  partly  to  him.  In  the  same  way  that  maltreating 
a slave,  and  thereby  making  him  less  valuable,  comes  to  be 
considered  as  an  aggression  on  his  owner — in  the  same  way 
that  even  now  among  ourselves  a father’s  ground  for  proceed- 
ing against  a seducer  is  loss  of  his  daughter’s  services ; so, 
where  the  relation  of  people  to  monarch  is  servile,  there  arises 
the  view  that  injury  done  by  one  person  to  another,  is  injury 
done  to  the  monarch’s  property.  An  extreme  form  of  this 
view  is  alleged  of  Japan,  where  cutting  and  maiming  of  the 
king’s  dependents  “ becomes  wounding  the  king,  or  regicide.” 
And  hence  the  general  principle,  traceable  in  European  juris- 
prudence from  early  days,  that  a transgression  of  man  against 
man  is  punishable  mainly,  or  in  large  measure,  as  a trans- 
gression against  the  State.  It  was  thus  in  ancient  Eome : 
“ every  one  convicted  of  having  broken  the  public  peace, 
expiated  his  offence  with  his  life.”  An  early  embodiment 
of  the  principle  occurs  in  the  Salic  law,  under  which  “ to  the 
wehrgeld  is  added,  in  a great  number  of  cases,  . . . the  frecl , 
a sum  paid  to  the  king  or  magistrate,  in  reparation  for  the 
violation  of  public  peace ; ” and  in  later  days,  the  fine  paid 
to  the  State  absorbed  the  wehrgeld.  Our  own  history  simi- 
larly shows  us  that,  as  authority  extends  and  strengthens,  the 
guilt  of  disregarding  it  takes  precedence  of  intrinsic  guilt. 
“ ‘ The  king’s  peace  5 was  a privilege  which  attached  to  the 
sovereign’s  court  and  castle,  but  which  he  could  confer  on 
other  places  and  persons,  and  which  at  once  raised  greatly 
the  penalty  of  misdeeds  committed  in  regard  to  them.” 
Along  with  the  growing  check  on  the  right  of  private  revenge 
for  wrongs — along  with  the  increasing  subordination  of  minor 
and  local  jurisdictions — along  with  that  strengthening  of  a 
central  authority  which  these  changes  imply,  “ offences  against 


LAWS. 


523 


the  law  become  offences  against  the  king,  and  the  crime  of 
disobedience  a crime  of  contempt  to  be  expiated  by  a special 
sort  of  fine.”  And  we  may  easily  see  how,  where  a ruler 
gains  absolute  power,  and  especially  where  lie  has  the  prestige 
of  divine  origin,  the  guilt  of  contempt  comes  to  exceed  the 
intrinsic  guilt  of  the  forbidden  act. 

A significant  truth  may  be  added.  On  remembering  that 
Peru,  and  Japan  till  lately,  above  named  as  countries  in 
which  the  crime  of  disobedience  to  the  ruler  was  considered 
so  great  as  practically  to  equalize  the  flagitiousness  of  all 
forbidden  acts,  had  societies  in  which  militant  organization, 
carried  to  its  extreme,  assimilated  the  social  government  at 
large  to  the  government  of  an  army ; we  are  reminded  that 
even  in  societies  like  our  own,  there  is  maintained  in  the 
army  the  doctrine  that  insubordination  is  the  cardinal 
offence.  Disobedience  to  orders  is  penal  irrespective  of  the 
nature  of  the  orders  or  the  motive  for  the  disobedience ; and 
an  act  which,  considered  in  itself,  is  quite  innocent,  may  be 
visited  with  death  if  done  in  opposition  to  commands. 

While,  then,  in  that  enforced  conformity  to  inherited 
customs  which  plays  the  part  of  law  in  the  earliest  stages,  we 
see  insisted  upon  the  duty  of  obedience  to  ancestors  at  large, 
irrespective  of  the  injunctions  to  be  obeyed,  which  are 
often  trivial  or  absurd — while  in  the  enforced  conformity  to 
special  directions  given  in  oracular  utterances  by  priests,  or  in 
“ themistes,”  &c.,  which  form  a supplementary  source  of  law, 
we  see  insisted  upon  the  duty  of  obedience,  in  small  tilings 
as  in  great,  to  certain  recognized  spirits  of  the  dead,  or  deities 
derived  from  them ; we  also  see  that  obedience  to  the  edicts 
of  the  terrestrial  ruler,  whatever  they  may  be,  becomes,  as  his 
power  grows,  a primary  duty. 

§ 533.  What  has  been  said  in  the  foregoing  sections  brings 
out  with  clearness  the  truth  that  rules  for  the  regulation  of 
conduct  have  four  sources.  Even  in  early  stages  we  see  that 
beyond  the  inherited  usages  which  have  a quasi-religious  sane- 


524 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


tion ; and  beyond  the  special  injunctions  of  deceased  leaders, 
which  have  a more  distinct  religious  sanction ; there  is  some, 
though  a slight,  amount  of  regulation  derived  from  the  will 
of  the  predominant  man ; and  there  is  also  the  effect,  vague 
but  influential,  of  the  aggregate  opinion.  Not  dwelling  on  the 
first  of  these,  which  is  slowly  modified  by  accretions  derived 
from  the  others,  it  is  observable  that  in  the  second  we  have 
the  germ  of  the  law  afterwards  distinguished  as  divine ; that 
in  the  third  we  have  the  germ  of  the  law  which  gets  its  sanc- 
tion from  allegiance  to  the  living  governor ; and  that  in  the 
fourth  we  have  the  germ  of  the  law  which  eventually  becomes 
recognized  as  expressing  the  public  will. 

Already  I have  sufficiently  illustrated  those  kinds  of  laws 
which  originate  personally,  as  commands  of  a feared  invisible 
ruler  and  a feared  visible  ruler.  But  before  going  further,  it 
will  be  well  to  indicate  more  distinctly  the  kind  of  law  which 
originates  impersonally,  from  the  prevailing  sentiments  and 
ideas,  and  which  we  find  clearly  shown  in  rude  stages  before 
the  other  two  have  become  dominant.  A -few  extracts  will 
exhibit  it.  Schoolcraft  says  of  the  Chippewayans — 

u Thus,  though  they  have  no  regular  government,  as  every  man  is  lord  in 
his  own  family,  they  are  influenced  more  or  less  by  certain  principles 
which  conduce  to  their  general  benefit.” 

Of  the  unorganized  Shoshones  Bancroft  writes — 

“ Every  man  does  as  he  likes.  Private  revenge,  of  course,  occasionally 
overtakes  the  murderer,  or,  if  the  sympathies  of  the  tribe  be  with  the 
murdered  man,  he  may  possibly  be  publicly  executed,  but  there  are  no 
fixed  laws  for  such  cases.” 

In  like  manner  the  same  writer  tells  us  of  the  Haidahs  that — - 
“ Crimes  have  no  punishment  by  law  ; murder  is  settled  for  with  rela- 
tives of  the  victim,  by  death  or  by  the  payment  of  a large  sum  ; and 
sometimes  general  or  notorious  offenders,  especially  medicine -men,  are 
put  to  death  by  an  agreement  among  leading  men.” 

Even  where  government  is  considerably  developed,  public 
opinion  continues  to  be  an  independent  source  of  law.  Ellis 
says  that — 

“ In  cases  of  theft  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  those  who  had  been  robbed 
retaliated  upon  the  guilty  party,  by  seizing  whatever  they  could  find ; 


LAWS. 


525 


and  this  mode  of  obtaining  redress  was  so  supported  by  public  opinion, 
that  the  latter,  though  it  might  be  the  stronger  party,  dare  not  offer 
resistance.” 

By  which  facts  we  are  reminded  that  where  central  authority 
and  administrative  machinery  are  feeble,  the  laws  thus  inform- 
ally established  by  aggregate  feeling  are  enforced  by  making 
revenge  for  wrongs  a socially-imposed  duty ; while  failure  to 
revenge  is  made  a disgrace,  and  a consequent  danger.  In 
ancient  Scandinavia,  “ a man’s  relations  and  friends  who  had 
not  revenged  his  death,  would  instantly  have  lost  that  repu- 
tation which  constituted  their  principal  security.”  So  that, 
obscured  as  this  source  of  law  becomes  when  the  popular  ele- 
ment in  the  triune  political  structure  is  entirely  subordinated, 
yet  it  was  originally  conspicuous,  and  never  ceases  to  exist. 
And  now  having  noted  the  presence  of  this,  along  with  the 
other  mingled  sources  of  law,  let  us  observe  how  the  several 
sources,  along  with  their  derived  laws,  gradually  become 
distinguished. 

Recalling  the  proofs  above  given  that  where  there  has 
been  established  a definite  political  authority,  inherited  from 
apotheosized  chiefs  and  made  strong  by  divine  sanction,  laws 
of  all  kinds  have  a religious  character ; we  have  first  to  note 
that  a differentiation  takes  place  between  those  regarded  as 
sacred  and  those  recognized  as  secular.  An  illustration  of 
this  advance  is  furnished  us  by  the  Greeks.  Describing  the 
state  of  things  exhibited  in  the  Homeric  poems,  Grote  re- 
marks that  “ there  is  no  sense  of  obligation  then  existing, 
between  man  and  man  as  such — and  very  little  between 
each  man  and  the  entire  community  of  which  he  is  a member;” 
while,  at  the  same  time,  “ the  tie  which  binds  a man  to  his 
father,  his  kinsman,  his  guest,  or  any  special  promisee 
towards  wkom  he  has  taken  the  engagement  of  an  oath,  is 
conceived  in  conjunction  with  the  idea  of  Zeus,  as  witness 
and  guarantee allegiance  to  a divinity  is  the  source  of 
obligation.  But  in  historical  Athens,  “ the  great  impersonal 
authority  called  ‘ The  Laws  ’ stood  out  separately,  both  as 


526 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


guide  and  sanction,  distinct  from  religious  duty  or  private 
sympathies.”  And  at  the  same  time  there  arose  the  distinc- 
tion between  breach  of  the  sacred  law  and  breach  of  the 
secular  law : “ the  murderer  came  to  be  considered,  first  as 
having  sinned  against  the  gods,  next  as  having  deeply  injured 
the  society,  and  thus  at  once  as  requiring  absolution  and 
deserving  punishment.”  A kindred  differentiation 

early  occurred  in  Rome.  Though,  during  the  primitive 
period,  the  head  of  the  State,  at  once  king  and  high  priest, 
and  in  his  latter  capacity  dressed  as  a god,  was  thus  the 
mouth-piece  of  both  sacred  law  and  secular  law ; yet,  after- 
wards, with  the  separation  of  the  ecclesiastical  and  political 
authorities,  came  a distinction  between  breaches  of  divine 
ordinances  and  breaches  of  human  ordinances.  In  the 
words  of  Sir  Henry  Maine,  there  were  “laws  punishing 
sins.  There  were  also  laws  punishing  torts.  The  con- 
ception of  offence  against  God  produced  the  first  class  of 
ordinances ; the  conception  of  offence  against  one’s  neighbour 
produced  the  second ; but  the  idea  of  offence  against  the  State 
or  aggregate  community  did  not  at  first  produce  a true 
criminal  jurisprudence.”  In  explanation  of  the  last  statement 
it  should,  however,  be  added  that  since,  during  the  regal 
period,  according  to  Mommsen,  “judicial  procedure  took  the 
form  of  a public  or  a private  process,  according  as  the  king 
interposed  of  his  own  motion,  or  only  when  appealed  to  by 
the  injured  party;”  and  since  “the  former  course  was  taken 
only  in  cases  which  involved  a breach  of  the  public  peace 
it  must  be  inferred  that  wdien  kingship  ceased,  there  survived 
the  distinction  between  transgression  against  the  individual 
and  transgression  against  the  State,  though  the  mode  of 
dealing  with  this  last  had  not,  for  a time,  a definite 
form.  Again,  even  among  the  Hebrews,  more  per- 

sistently theocratic  as  their  social  system  was,  we  see  a con- 
siderable amount  of  this  change,  at  the  same  time  that  we 
are  shown  one  of  its  causes.  The  Mishna  contains  many 
detailed  civil  laws ; and  these  manifestly  resulted  from  the 


LAWS. 


527 


growing  complication  of  affairs.  The  instance  is  one  showing 
ns  that  primitive  sacred  commands,  originating  as  they  do  in 
a comparatively  undeveloped  state  of  society,  fail  to  cover 
the  cases  which  arise  as  institutions  become  involved.  In 
respect  of  these  there  consequently  grow  up  rules  having 
a known  human  authority  only.  By  accumulation  of  such 
rules,  is  produced  a body  of  human  laws  distinct  from  the 
divine  laws ; and  the  offence  of  disobeying  the  one  becomes 
unlike  the  offence  of  disobeying  the  other.  Though 

in  Christianized  Europe,  throughout  which  the  indigenous 
religions  were  superseded  by  an  introduced  religion,  the 
differentiating  process  was  interfered  with;  yet,  on  setting 
out  from  the  stage  at  which  this  introduced  religion  had 
acquired  that  supreme  authority  proper  to  indigenous  re- 
ligions, we  see  that  the  subsequent  changes  were  of  like 
nature  with  those  above  described.  Along  with  that  mingling 
of  structures  shown  in  the  ecclesiasticism  of  kings  and  the 
secularity  of  prelates,  there  went  a mingling  of  political  and 
religious  legislation.  Gaining  supreme  power,  the  Church 
interpreted  sundry  civil  offences  as  offences  against  God; 
and  even  those  which  w^ere  left  to  be  dealt  with  by  the 
magistrate  were  considered  as  thus  left  by  divine  ordi- 
nance. But  subsequent  evolution  brought  about  stages 
in  which  various  transgressions,  held  to  be  committed 
against  both  sacred  and  secular  law,  were  simultaneously 
expiated  by  religious  penance  and  civil  punishment ; and  there 
followed  a separation  which,  leaving  but  a small  remnant  of 
ecclesiastical  offences,  brought  the  rest  into  the  category  of 
offences  against  the  State  and  against  individuals. 

And  this  brings  us  to  the  differentiation  of  equal,  if  not 
greater,  significance,  between  those  laws  which  derive  their 
obligation  from  the  will  of  the  governing  agency,  and  those  laws 
which  derive  their  obligation  from  the  consensus  of  individual 
interests — between  those  laws  which,  having  as  their  direct  end 
the  maintenance  of  authority,  only  indirectly  thereby  conduce 
to  social  welfare,  and  those  which,  directly  and  irrespective 


528 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


of  authority,  conduce  to  social  welfare : of  which  last,  law, 
in  its  modern  form,  is  substantially  an  elaboration.  Already 
I have  pointed  out  that  the  kind  of  law  initiated  by  the 
consensus  of  individual  interests,  precedes  the  kind  of  law 
initiated  by  political  authority.  Already  I have  said  that 
though,  as  political  authority  develops,  laws  acquire  the  shape 
of  commands,  even  to  the  extent  that  those  original  prin- 
ciples of  social  order  tacitly  recognized  at  the  outset,  come 
to  be  regarded  as  obligatory  only  because  personally  enacted, 
yet  that  the  obligation  derived  from  the  consensus  of  indi- 
vidual interests  survives,  if  obscured.  And  here  it  remains 
to  show  that  as  the  power  of  the  political  head  declines — as 
industrialism  fosters  an  increasingly  free  population — as 
the  third  element  in  the  triune  political  structure,  long  sub- 
ordinated, grows  again  predominant ; there  again  grows  pre- 
dominant this  primitive  source  of  law  — the  consensus  of 
individual  interests.  We  have  further  to  note  that  in  its 
re-developed  form,  as  in  its  original  form,  the  kind  of  law 
hence  arising  has  a character  radically  distinguishing  it  from 
the  kinds  of  law  thus  far  considered.  Both  the  divine 
laws  and  the  human  laws  which  originate  from  personal 
authority,  have  inequality  as  their  common  essential  principle ; 
while  the  laws  which  originate  impersonally,  in  the  consensus  of 
individual  interests,  have  equality  as  their  essential  principle. 
Evidence  is  furnished  at  the  very  outset.  For  wrhat  is  this 
lex  talionis  which,  in  the  rudest  hordes  of  men,  is  not  only 
recognized  but  enforced  by  general  opinion  ? Obviously,  as 
enjoining  an  equalization  of  injuries  or  losses,  it  tacitly 
assumes  equality  of  claims  among  the  individuals  concerned. 
The  principle  of  requiring  “ an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a tooth  for 
a tooth,”  embodies  the  primitive  idea  of  justice  everywhere: 
the  endeavour  to  effect  an  exact  balance  being  sometimes 
quite  curious.  Thus  we  read  in  Arbousset  and  Daumas  : — 

“ A Basuto  whose  son  had  been  wounded  on  the  head  with  a staff,  came 
to  entreat  me  to  deliver  up  the  offender, — 4 with  the  same  staff  and  on 
the  same  spot  where  my  son  was  beaten,  will  I give  a blow  on  the  head 
of  the  man  who  did  it.’  ” 


LAWS. 


529 


A kindred  effort  to  equalize  in  this  literal  way,  the  nffence 
and  the  expiation,  occurs  in  Abyssinia  ; where,  when  the 
murderer  is  given  over  to  his  victim’s  family,  “the  nearest 
of  kin  puts  him  to  death  with  the  same  kind  of  weapon  as 
that  with  which  he  had  slain  their  relative.”  As  the  last 
case  shows,  this  primitive  procedure,  when  it  does  not  assume 
the  form  of  inflicting  injury  for  injury  between  individuals, 
assumes  the  form  of  inflicting  injury  for  injury  between 
families  or  tribes,  by  taking  life  for  life.  With  the  instances 
given  in  § 522  may  be  joined  one  from  Sumatra. 

“ When  in  an  affray  [between  families],  there  happen  to  be  several 
persons  killed  on  both  sides,  the  business  of  justice  is  only  to  state 
the  reciprocal  losses,  in  the  form  of  an  account  current,  and  order  the 
balance  to  be  discharged  if  the  numbers  be  unequal.” 

And  then,  from  this  rude  justice  which  insists  on  a balancing 
of  losses  between  families  or  tribes,  it  results  that  so  long  as 
their  mutual  injuries  are  equalized,  it  matters  not  whether 
the  blameable  persons  are  or  are  not  those  who  suffer ; and 
hence  the  system  of  vicarious  punishment — hence  the  fact  that 
vengeance  is  wreaked  on  any  member  of  the  transgressing 
family  or  tribe.  Moreover,  ramifying  in  these  various  ways, 
the  principle  applies  where  not  life  but  property  is  con- 
cerned. Schoolcraft  tells  us  that  among  the  Dakotas, “injury 
to  property  is  sometimes  privately  revenged  by  destroying 
other  property  in  place  thereof and  among  the  Araueanians, 
families  pillage  one  another  for  the  purpose  of  making  their 
losses  alike.  The  idea  survives,  though  changed  in 

form,  when  crimes  come  to  be  compounded  for  by  gifts  or 
payments.  Very  early  we  see  arising  the  alternative  between 
submitting  to  vengeance  or  making  compensation.  Kane 
says  of  certain  North  American  races,  that  “ horses  or  other 
Indian  valuables  ” were  accepted  in  compensation  for  murder. 
With  the  Dakotas  “ a present  of  white  wampum,”  if  accepted, 
condones  the  offence.  Among  the  Araueanians,  homicides 
“ can  screen  themselves  from  punishment  by  a composition 
with  the  relations  of  the  murdered.”  Recalling,  as  these  few 
instances  do,  the  kindred  alternatives  recognized  throughout 


530 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


primitive  Europe,  they  also  make  us  aware  of  a significant 
difference.  For  with  the  rise  of  class-distinctions  in  primitive 
Europe,  the  rates  of  compensation,  equal  among  members  of 
each  class,  had  ceased  to  be  equal  between  members  of  dif- 
ferent classes.  Along  with  the  growth  of  personally- derived 
law,  there  had  been  a departure  from  the  impersonally- 
derived  law  as  it  originally  existed. 

But  now  the  truth  to  be  noted  is  that,  with  the  relative 
weakening  of  kingly  or  aristocratic  authority  and  relative 
strengthening  of  popular  authority,  there  revives  the  partially- 
suppressed  kind  of  law  derived  from  the  consensus  of  indi- 
vidual interests ; and  the  kind  of  law  thus  originating  tends 
continually  to  replace  all  other  law.  For  the  chief  business 
of  courts  of  justice  at  present,  is  to  enforce,  without  respect  of 
persons,  the  principle,  recognized  before  governments  arose, 
that  all  members  of  the  community,  however  otherwise  dis- 
tinguished, shall  be  similarly  dealt  with  when  they  aggress 
one  upon  another.  Though  the  equalization  of  injuries  by 
retaliation  is  no  longer  permitted ; and  though  the  Govern- 
ment, reserving  to  itself  the  punishment  of  transgressors,  does 
little  to  enforce  restitution  or  compensation  ; yet,  in  pur- 
suance of  the  doctrine  that  all  men  are  equal  before  the  law, 
it  has  the  same  punishment  for  transgressors  of  every  class. 
And  then  in  respect  of  unfulfilled  contracts  or  disputed  debts, 
from  the  important  ones  tried  at  Assizes  to  the  trivial  ones 
settled  in  County  Courts,  its  aim  is  to  maintain  the  rights  and 
obligations  of  citizens  without  regard  for  wealth  or  rank.  Of 
course  in  our  transition  state  the  change  is  incomplete.  But 
the  sympathy  with  individual  claims,  and  the  consensus  of 
individual  interests  accompanying  it,  lead  to  an  increasing 
predominance  of  that  kind  of  law  which  provides  directly 
for  social  or’der;  as  distinguished  from  that  kind  of  lav/ 
which  indirectly  provides  for  social  order  by  insisting  on 
obedience  to  authority,  divine  or  human.  With  decline  of 
the  regime  of  status  and  growth  of  the  regime  of  contract, 
personally-derived  law  more  and  more  gives  place  to  impel- 


LAWS. 


531 


sonally-derived  law ; and  this  of  necessity,  since  a formulated 
inequality  is  implied  by  the  compulsory  cooperation  of  the 
one,  while,  by  the  voluntary  cooperation  of  the  other,  there  is 
implied  a formulated  equality. 

So  that,  having  first  differentiated  from  the  laws  of  sup- 
posed divine  origin,  the  laws  of  recognized  human  origin 
subsequently  re-differentiate  into  those  which  ostensibly  have 
the  will  of  the  ruling  agency  as  their  predominant  sanction, 
and  those  which  ostensibly  have  the  aggregate  of  private 
interests  as  their  predominant  sanction ; of  which  two  the  last 
tends,  in  the  course  of  social  evolution,  more  and  more  to 
absorb  the  first.  Necessarily,  however,  while  militancy  con- 
tinues, the  absorption  remains  incomplete ; since  obedience 
to  a ruling  will  continues  to  be  in  some  cases  necessary. 

§ 534.  A right  understanding  of  this  matter  is  so  important, 
that  I must  be  excused  for  briefly  presenting  two  further 
aspects  of  the  changes  described  : one  concerning  the  accom- 
panying sentiments,  and  the  other  concerning  the  accompany- 
ing theories. 

As  laws  originate  partly  in  the  customs  inherited  from  the 
undistinguished  dead,  partly  in  the  special  injunctions  of  the 
distinguished  dead,  partly  in  the  average  will  of  the  undis- 
tinguished living,  and  partly  in  the  will  of  the  distinguished 
living,  the  feelings  responding  to  them,  allied  though  differ- 
ent, are  mingled  in  proportions  that  vary  under  diverse  cir- 
cumstances. 

A ccording  to  the  nature  of  the  society,  one  or  other  sanction 
predominates ; and  the  sentiment  appropriate  to  it  obscures 
the  sentiments  appropriate  to  the  others,  without,  however, 
obliterating  them.  Thus  in  a theocratic  society,  the  crime  of 
murder  is  punished  primarily  as  a sin  against  God ; but  not 
without  there  being  some  consciousness  of  its  criminality  as 
a disobedience  to  the  human  ruler  who  enforces  the  divine 
command,  as  well  as  an  injury  to  a family,  and,  by  implication, 
to  the  community.  Where,  as  among  the  Bedouins  or  in 
14 


532 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Sumatra,  there  is  no  such  supematurally-derived  injunction, 
and  no  consequent  reprobation  of  disobedience  to  it,  the  loss 
entailed  on  the  family  of  the  victim  is  the  injury  recognized ; 
and,  consequently,  murder  is  not  distinguished  from  man- 
slaughter. Again,  in  Japan  and  in  Peru,  unqualified  abso- 
luteness of  the  living  ruler  is,  or  was,  accompanied  by  the 
belief  that  the  criminality  of  murder  consisted  primarily  in 
transgression  of  his  commands ; though  doubtless  the  establish- 
ment of  such  commands  implied,  both  in  ruler  and  people, 
some  recognition  of  evil,  individual  or  general,  caused  by 
breach  of  them.  In  ancient  Eome,  the  consciousness  of 
injury  done  to  the  community  by  murder  was  decided ; and 
the  feeling  enlisted  on  behalf  of  public  order  was  that  which 
mainly  enforced  the  punishment.  And  then  among  ourselves 
when  a murder  is  committed,  the  listener  to  an  account  of  it 
shudders  not  mainly  because  the  alleged  command  of  God 
has  been  broken,  nor  mainly  because  there  has  been  a breach 
of  “ the  Queen’s  peace but  his  strongest  feeling  of  repro- 
bation is  that  excited  by  the  thought  of  a life  taken  away, 
with  which  is  joined  a secondary  feeling  due  to  the  diminution 
of  social  safety  which  every  such  act  implies.  In  these 

different  emotions  which  give  to  these  several  sanctions 
their  respective  powers,  we  see  the  normal  concomitants  of 
the  social  states  to  which  such  sanctions  are  appropriate. 
More  especially  we  see  how  that  weakening  of  the  sentiments 
offended  by  breaches  of  authority,  divine  or  human,  which 
accompanies  growth  of  the  sentiments  offended  by  injuries 
to  individuals  and  the  community,  is  naturally  joined  with 
revival  of  that  kind  of  law  which  originates  in  the  consensus 
of  individual  interests — the  law  which  was  dominant  before 
personal  authority  grew  up,  and  which  again  becomes  domi- 
nant as  personal  authority  declines. 

At  the  same  time  there  goes  on  a parallel  change  of  theory. 
Along  with  a rule  predominantly  theocratic,  there  is  current 
a tacit  or  avowed  doctrine,  that  the  acts  prescribed  or  for- 
bidden are  made  right  or  wrong  solely  by  divine  command ; 


LAWS# 


533 


and  though  this  doctrine  survives  through  subsequent  stages 
(as  it  does  still  in  our  own  religious  world),  yet  belief  in  it 
becomes  nominal  rather  than  real.  Where  there  has  been 
established  an  absolute  human  authority,  embodied  in  a 
single  individual,  or,  as  occasionally,  in  a few,  there  comes 
the  theory  that  law  has  no  other  source  than  the  will  of  this 
authority : acts  are  conceived  as  proper  or  improper  accord- 
ing as  they  do  or  do  not  conform  to  its  dictates.  With 
progress  towards  a popular  form  of  government,  this  theory 
becomes  modified  to  the  extent  that  though  the  obligation  to 
do  this  and  refrain  from  that  is  held  to  arise  from  State- 
enactment  ; yet  the  authority  which  gives  this  enactment  its 
force  is  the  public  desire.  Still  it  is  observable  that  along 
with  a tacit  implication  that  the  consensus  of  individual 
interests  affords  the  warrant  for  law,  there  goes  the  overt 
assertion  that  this  warrant  is  derived  from  the  formulated 
will  of  the  majority : no  question  being  raised  whether  this 
formulated  will  is  or  is  not  congruous  with  the  consensus  of 
individual  interests.  In  this  current  theory  there  obviously 
survives  the  old  idea  that  there  is  no  other  sanction  for  law 
than  the  command  of  embodied  authority ; though  the  autho- 
rity is  now  a widely  different  one. 

But  this  theory,  much  in  favour  witli  “ philosophical 
politicians,”  is  a transitional  theory.  The  ultimate  theory, 
which  it  foreshadows,  is  that  the  source  of  legal  obligation  is 
the  consensus  of  individual  interests  itself,  and  not  the  will  of 
a majority  determined  by  their  opinion  concerning  it ; which 
may  or  may  not  be  right.  Already,  even  in  legal  theory, 
especially  as  expounded  by  French  jurists,  natural  law  or 
law  of  nature,  is  recognized  as  a source  of  formulated  law : 
the  admission  being  thereby  made  that,  primarily  certain  in- 
dividual claims,  and  secondarily  the  social  welfare  furthered 
by  enforcing  such  claims,  furnish  a warrant  for  law,  ante- 
ceding  political  authority  and  its  enactments.  Already  in 
the  qualification  of  Common  Law  by  Equity,  which  avowedly 
proceeds  upon  the  law  of  “ honesty  and  reason  and  of  nations  ” 


534 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


there  is  involved  the  pre-supposition  that,  as  similarly-con- 
stituted beings,  men  have  certain  rights  in  common,  main- 
tenance of  which,  while  directly  advantageous  to  them  in- 
dividually, indirectly  benefits  the  community  ; and  that  thus 
the  decisions  of  equity  have  a sanction  independent  alike  of 
customary  law  and  parliamentary  votes.  Already  in  respect 
of  religious  opinions  there  is  practically  conceded  the  right  of 
the  individual  to  disobey  the  law,  even  though  it  expresses 
the  will  of  a majority.  Whatever  disapproval  there  may  be 
of  him  as  a law-breaker,  is  over-ridden  by  sympathy  with  his 
assertion  of  freedom  of  judgment.  There  is  a tacit  recog- 
nition of  a warrant  higher  than  that  of  State-enactments, 
whether  regal  or  popular  in  origin.  These  ideas  and  feelings 
are  all  significant  of  progress  towards  the  view,  proper  to  the 
developed  industrial  state,  that  the  justification  for  a law  is 
that  it  enforces  one  or  other  of  the  conditions  to  harmonious 
social  cooperation ; and  that  it  is  unjustified  (enacted  by  no 
matter  how  high  an  authority  or  how  general  an  opinion)  if 
it  traverses  these  conditions. 

And  this  is  tantamount  to  saying  that  the  impersonally- 
derived  law  which  revives  as  personally-derived  law  declines, 
and  which  gives  expression  to  the  consensus  of  individual 
interests,  becomes,  in  its  final  form,  simply  an  applied  system 
of  ethics — or  rather,  of  that  part  of  ethics  which  concerns 
men’s  just  relations  with  one  another  and  with  the  community. 

§ 535.  Returning  from  this  somewhat  parenthetical  dis- 
cussion, we  might  here  enter  on  the  development  of  laws,  not 
generally  but  specially ; exhibiting  them  as  accumulating  in 
mass,  as  dividing  and  sub-dividing  in  their  kinds,  as  becom- 
ing increasingly  definite,  as  growing  into  coherent  and  com- 
plex systems,  as  undergoing  adaptations  to  new  conditions. 
But  besides  occupying  too  much  space,  such  an  exposition 
would  fall  outside  the  lines  of  our  subject.  Present  require- 
ments are  satisfied  by  the  results  above  set  forth,  which  may 
be  summarized  as  follows. 


LAWS. 


535 


Setting  out  with  the  truth,  illustrated  even  in  the  very 
rudest  tribes,  that  the  ideas  conveyed,  sentiments  inculcated, 
and  usages  taught,  to  children  by  parents  who  themselves 
were  similarly  taught,  eventuate  in  a rigid  set  of  customs ; we 
recognize  the  fact  that  at  first,  as  to  the  last,  law  is  mainly 
an  embodiment  of  ancestral  injunctions. 

To  the  injunctions  of  the  undistinguished  dead,  which, 
qualified  by  the  public  opinion  of  the  living  in  cases  not 
prescribed  for,  constitute  the  code  of  conduct  before  any 
political  organization  has  arisen,  there  come  to  be  added  the 
injunctions  of  the  distinguished  dead,  when  there  have  arisen 
chiefs  who,  in  some  measure  feared  and  obeyed  during  life, 
after  death  give  origin  to  ghosts  still  more  feared  and  obeyed. 
And  when,  during  that  compounding  of  societies  effected 
by  war,  such  chiefs  develop  into  kings,  their  remembered 
commands  and  the  commands  supposed  to  be  given  by  their 
ghosts,  become  a sacred  code  of  conduct,  partly  embodying 
and  partly  adding  to  the  code  pre-established  by  custom. 
The  living  ruler,  able  to  legislate  only  in  respect  of  matters 
unprovided  for,  is  bound  by  these  transmitted  commands  of 
the  unknown  and  the  known  who  have  passed  away ; save 
only  in  cases  where  the  living  ruler  is  himself  regarded  as 
divine,  in  which  cases  his  injunctions  become  laws  having 
a like  sacredness.  Hence  the  trait  common  to  societies  in 
early  stages,  that  the  prescribed  rules  of  conduct  of  whatever 
kind  have  a religious  sanction.  Sacrificial  observances, 
public  duties,  moral  injunctions,  social  ceremonies,  habits 
of  life,  industrial  regulations,  and  even  modes  of  dressing, 
stand  on  the  same  footing. 

Maintenance  of  the  unchangeable  rules  of  conduct  thus 
originating,  which  is  requisite  for  social  stability  during  those 
stages  in  which  the  type  of  nature  is  yet  but  little  fitted  for 
harmonious  social  cooperation, pre-supposes  implicit  obedience; 
and  hence  disobedience  becomes  the  blackest  crime.  Treason 
and  rebellion,  whether  against  the  divine  or  the  human  ruler 
bring  penalties  exceeding  all  others  in  severity.  The  breaking 


536 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


of  a law  is  punished  not  because  of  the  intrinsic  criminality  of 
the  act  committed,  but  because  of  the  implied  insubordina- 
tion. And  the  disregard  of  governmental  authority  continues, 
through  subsequent  stages,  to  constitute,  in  legal  theory,  the 
primary  element  in  a transgression. 

In  societies  that  become  large  and  complex,  there  arise  forms 
of  activity  and  intercourse  not  provided  for  in  the  sacred  code ; 
and  in  respect  of  these  the  ruler  is  free  to  make  regulations. 
As  such  regulations  accumulate  there  comes  into  exist- 
ence a body  of  laws  of  known  human  origin ; and  though 
this  acquires  an  authority  due  to  reverence  for  the  men  who 
made  it  and  the  generations  wdiich  approved  it,  yet  it  has  not 
the  sacredness  of  the  god-descended  body  of  laws : human 
law  differentiates  from  divine  law.  But  in  societies  which 
remain  predominantly  militant,  these  two  bodies  of  laws 
continue  similar  in  the  respect  that  they  have  a personally- 
derived  authority.  The  avowed  reason  for  obeying  them  is 
that  they  express  the  will  of  a divine  ruler,  or  the  will  of  a 
human  ruler,  or,  occasionally,  the  will  of  an  irresponsible 
oligarchy. 

But  with  the  progress  of  industrialism  and  growth  of  a 
free  population  wdiich  gradually  acquires  political  power,  the 
humanly-derived  law  begins  to  sub-divide;  and  that  part 
which  originates  in  the  consensus  of  individual  interests, 
begins  to  dominate  over  the  part  which  originates  in  the 
authority  of  the  ruler.  So  long  as  the  social  type  is  one 
organized  on  the  principle  of  compulsory  cooperation,  law, 
having  to  maintain  this  compulsory  cooperation,  must  be 
primarily  concerned  in  regulating  status , maintaining  in- 
equality, enforcing  authority ; and  can  but  secondarily  con- 
sider the  individual  interests  of  those  forming  the  mass. 
But  in  proportion  as  the  principle  of  voluntary  cooperation 
more  and  more  characterizes  the  social  type,  fulfilment  of 
contracts  and  implied  assertion  of  equality  in  men's  rights, 
become  the  fundamental  requirements,  and  the  consensus  of 
individual  interests  the  chief  source  of  lawr : such  authority 


LAWS. 


537 


as  law  otherwise  derived  continues  to  have,  being  recognized 
as  secondary,  and  insisted  upon  only  because  maintenance  of 
law  for  its  own  sake  indirectly  furthers  the  general  welfare. 

Finally,  we  see  that  the  systems  of  laws  belonging  to  these 
successive  stages,  are  severally  accompanied  by  the  senti- 
ments and  theories  appropriate  to  them ; and  that  the 
theories  at  present  current,  adapted  to  the  existing  compromise 
between  militancy  and  industrialism,  are  steps  towards  the 
ultimate  theory,  in  conformity  with  which  law  will  have  no 
other  justification  than  that  gained  by  it  as  maintainer  of  the 
conditions  to  complete  life  in  the  associated  state. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


PROPERTY. 

§ 536.  The  fact  referred  to  in  § 292,  that  even  intelligent 
animals  display  a sense  of  proprietorship,  negatives  the  belief 
propounded  by  some,  that  individual  property  was  not  recog- 
nized by  primitive  men.  When  we  see  the  claim  to  exclusive 
possession  understood  by  a dog,  so  that  he  fights  in  defence 
of  his  masters  clothes  if  left  in  charge  of  them,  it  becomes 
impossible  to  suppose  that  even  in  their  lowest  state  men 
were  devoid  of  those  ideas  and  emotions  which  initiate  private 
ownership.  All  that  may  be  fairly  assumed  is  that  these 
ideas  and  sentiments  were  at  first  less  developed  than  they 
have  since  become. 

It  is  true  that  in  some  extremely  rude  hordes,  rights  of  pro- 
perty are  but  little  respected.  Lichtenstein  tells  us  that 
among  the  Bushmen,  “ the  weaker,  if  he  would  preserve  his 
own  life,  is  obliged  to  resign  to  the  stronger,  his  weapons,  his 
wife,  and  even  his  children and  there  are  some  degraded 
North  American  tribes  in  which  there  is  no  check  on  the 
more  powerful  who  choose  to  take  from  the  less  powerful : 
their  acts  are  held  to  be  legitimized  by  success.  But  absence 
of  the  idea  of  property,  and  the  accompanying  sentiment, 
is  no  more  implied  by  these  forcible  appropriations  than  it 
is  implied  by  the  forcible  appropriation  which  a bigger 
schoolboy  makes  of  the  toy  belonging  to  a less.  It 

is  also  true  that  even  where  force  is  not  used,  individual 


PROPERTY. 


539 


claims  are  in  considerable  degrees  over-ridden  or  imperfectly 
maintained.  We  read  of  the  Chippewayans  that  “ Indian 
law  requires  the  successful  hunter  to  share  the  spoils  of  the 
chase  with  all  present and  Hillliouse  says  of  the  Arawaks 
that  though  individual  property  is  “ distinctly  marked 
amongst  them/’  “yet  they  are  perpetually  borrowing  and 
lending,  without  the  least  care  about  payment.”  But  such 
instances  merely  imply  that  private  ownership  is  at  first  ill- 
defined,  as  we  might  expect,  a priori , that  it  would  be. 

Evidently  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which  accompany  the 
act  of  taking  possession,  as  when  an  animal  clutches  its  prey, 
and  which  at  a higher  stage  of  intelligence  go  along  with  the 
grasping  of  any  article  indirectly  conducing  to  gratification, 
are  the  thoughts  and  feelings  to  which  the  theory  of  property 
does  but  give  a precise  shape.  Evidently  the  use  in  legal 
documents  of  such  expressions  as  “ to  have  and  to  hold,”  and 
to  be  “seized”  of  a thing,  as  well  as  the  survival  up  to 
comparatively  late  times  of  ceremonies  in  which  a portion 
(rock  or  soil)  of  an  estate  bought,  representing  the  whole, 
actually  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  point  back  to  this 
primitive  physical  basis  of  ownership.  Evidently  the  de- 
veloped doctrine  of  property,  accompanying  a social  state  in 
which  men’s  acts  have  to  be  mutually  restrained,  is  a 
doctrine  which  on  the  one  hand  asserts  the  freedom  to  take 
and  to  keep  within  specified  limits,  and  denies  it  beyond 
those  limits — gives  positiveness  to  the  claim  while  restricting 
it.  And  evidently  the  increasing  definiteness  thus  given  to 
rights  of  individual  possession,  may  be  expected  to  show  itself 
first  where  definition  is  relatively  easy  and  afterwards  where 
it  is  less  easy.  This  we  shall  find  that  it  does. 

§ 537.  While  in  early  stages  it  is  difficult,  not  to  say  impos- 
sible, to  establish  and  mark  off  individual  claims  to  parts  of 
the  area  wandered  over  in  search  of  food,  it  is  not  difficult  to 
mark  off  the  claims  to  movable  things  and  to  habitations ; 
and  these  claims  we  find  habitually  recognized.  The  follow- 


540 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


ing passage  from  Bancroft  concerning  certain  North  American 
savages,  well  illustrates  the  distinction  : — 

“Captain  Cook  found  among  the  Alits  very  * strict  notions  of  their 
having  a right  to  the  exclusive  property  of  everything  that  their 
country  produces/  so  that  they  claimed  pay  for  even  wood,  water,  and 
grass.  The  limits  of  tribal  property  are  very  clearly  defined,  but  indi- 
viduals rarely  claim  any  property  in  land.  Houses  belong  to  the.  men 
who  combine  to  build  them.  Private  wealth  consists  of  boats  and 
implements  for  obtaining  food,  domestic  utensils,  slaves,  and  blankets.” 
A like  condition  is  shown  us  by  the  Comanches  : — 

“ They  recognize  no  distinct  rights  of  meum  and  tuum,  except  to  per- 
sonal property ; holding  the  territory  they  occupy,  and  the  game  that 
depastures  upon  it,  as  common  to  all  the  tribe  : the  latter  is  appro- 
priated only  by  capture.” 

And  the  fact  that  among  these  Comanches,  as  among  other 
peoples,  “ prisoners  of  war  belong  to  the  captors,  and  may  be 
sold  or  released  at  their  will,”  further  shows  that  the  right  of 
property  is  asserted  where  it  is  easily  defined.  Of  the 
Brazilian  Indians,  again,  Yon  Martius  tells  us  that, — 

“ Huts  and  utensils  are  considered  as  private  property ; but  even  with 
regard  to  them  certain  ideas  of  common  possession  prevail.  The  same 
hut  is  often  occupied  by  more  families  than  one ; and  many  utensils  are 
the  joint  property  of  all  the  occupants.  Scarcely  anything  is  considered 
strictly  as  the  property  of  an  individual  except  his  arms,  accoutrements, 
pipe,  and  hammock.” 

Dr.  Bink’s  account  of  the  Esquimaux  shows  that  among 
them,  too,  while  there  is  joint  ownership  of  houses  made 
jointly  by  the  families  inhabiting  them,  there  is  separate 
ownership  of  weapons,  fishing  boats,  tools,  etc.  Thus  it  is 
made  manifest  that  private  right,  completely  recognized 
where  recognition  of  it  is  easy,  is  partially  recognized  where 
partial  recognition  only  is  possible — where  the  private  rights 
of  companions  are  entangled  with  it.  Instances  of  other 
kinds  equally  prove  that  among  savages  claims  to  possession 
are  habitually  marked  off  when  practicable  : if  not  fully,  yet 
partially.  Of  the  Chippewayans  “who  have  no  regular 
government  ” to  make  laws  or  arbitrate,  we  yet  read  that, — 

“ In  the  former  instance  [when  game  is  taken  in  inclosures  by  a hunt- 
ing party],  the  game  is  divided  among  those  who  have  been  engaged  in 


PROPERTY. 


54:1 


the  pursuit  of  it.  In  the  latter  [when  taken  in  private  traps]  it  is  con- 
sidered as  private  property;  nevertheless,  any  unsuccessful  hunter 
passing  by,  may  take  a deer  so  caught,  leaving  the  head,  skin,  and 
saddle,  for  the  owner.” 

In  cases,  still  more  unlike,  but  similar  in  the  respect  that 
there  exists  an  obvious  connexion  between  labour  expended 
and  benefit  achieved,  rude  peoples  re-illustrate  this  same 
individualization  of  property.  Burckhardt  tells  us  of  the 
Bedouins  that  wells  are  exclusive  property,  either  of  a whole 
tribe,  or  of  individuals  whose  ancestors  dug  the  wells.” 

Taken  together  such  facts  make  it  indisputable  that  in  early 
stages,  private  appropriation,  carried  to  a considerable  extent, 
is  not  carried  further  because  circumstances  render  extension 
of  it  impracticable. 

§ 538.  Recognition  of  this  truth  at  once  opens  the  way  to 
explanation  of  primitive  land-ownership ; and  elucidates  the 
genesis  of  those  communal  and  family  tenures  which  have 
prevailed  so  widely. 

While  subsistence  on  wild  food  continues,  the  wandering 
horde  inhabiting  a given  area,  must  continue  to  make  joint  use 
of  the  area;  both  because  no  claim  can  be  shown  by  any 
member  to  any  portion,  and  because  the  marking  out  of  small 
divisions,  if  sharing  were  agreed  upon,  would  be  impracticable. 
Where  pastoral  life  has  arisen,  ability  to  drive  herds  hither 
and  thither  within  the  occupied  region  is  necessary.  In  the 
absence  of  cultivation,  cattle  and  their  owners  could  not 
survive  were  each  owner  restricted  to  one  spot:  there  is 
nothing  feasible  but  united  possession  of  a wide  tract.  And 
when  there  comes  a transition  to  the  agricultural  stage, 
either  directly  from  the  hunting  stage  or  indirectly  through 
the  pastoral  stage,  several  causes  conspire  to  prevent,  or  to 
check,  the  growth  of  private  land-ownership. 

There  is  first  the  traditional  usage.  Joint  ownership  con- 
tinues after  circumstances  no  longer  render  it  imperative,, 
because  departure  from  the  sacred  example  of  forefathers  is^ 
resisted.  Sometimes  the  resistance  is  insuperable ; as  with 


542 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  Kechabites  and  the  people  of  Petra,  who  by  their  vow 
“were  not  allowed  to  possess  either  vineyards  or  corn- 
fields or  houses  ” but  were  bound  “ to  continue  the  nomadic 
life.”  And  obviously,  where  the  transition  to  a settled  state 
is  effected,  the  survival  of  habits  and  sentiments  esta- 
blished during  the  nomadic  state,  must  long  prevent  posses- 
sion of  land  by  individuals.  Moreover,  apart  from 

opposing  ideas  and  customs,  there  are  physical  difficulties 
in  the  way.  Even  did  any  member  of  a pastoral  horde  which 
had  become  partially  settled,  establish  a claim  to  exclusive 
possession  of  one  part  of  the  occupied  area,  little  advantage 
could  be  gained  before  there  existed  the  means  of  keeping  out 
the  animals  belonging  to  others.  Common  use  of  the  greater 
part  of  the  surface  must  long  continue  from  mere  inability 
to  set  up  effectual  divisions.  Only  small  portions  can  at  first 
be  fenced  off.  Yet  a further  reason  why  land-owning 

by  individuals,  and  land-owning  by  families,  establish  them- 
selves very  slowly,  is  that  at  first  each  particular  plot  has 
but  a temporary  value.  The  soil  is  soon  exhausted;  tand 
in  the  absence  of  advanced  arts  of  culture  becomes  useless. 
Such  tribes  as  those  of  the  Indian  hills  show  us  that  primitive 
cultivators  uniformly  follow  the  practice  of  clearing  a tract  of 
ground,  raising  from  it  two  or  three  crops,  and  then  abandon- 
ing it : the  implication  being  that  whatever  private  claim  had 
arisen,  lapses,  and  the  surface,  again  becoming  wild,  reverts  to 
the  community. 

Thus  throughout  long  stages  of  incipient  civilization,  the 
impediments  in  the  way  of  private  land-ownership  are  great 
and  the  incentives  to  it  small.  Besides  the  fact  that  primitive 
men,  respecting  the  connexion  between  effort  expended  and 
benefit  gained,  and  therefore  respecting  the  right  of  property 
in  things  made  by  labour,  recognize  no  claim  thus  estab- 
lished by  an  individual  to  a portion  of  land ; and  besides  the 
fact  that  in  the  adhesion  to  inherited  usage  and  the  inability 
effectually  to  make  bounds,  there  are  both  moral  and  physical 
obstacles  to  the  establishment  of  any  such  individual 


PROPERTY. 


543 


monopoly ; there  is  the  fact  that  throughout  early  stages 
of  settled  life,  no  motive  to  maintain  permanent  private 
possession  of  land  comes  into  play.  Manifestly,  therefore,  it 
is  not  from  conscious  assertion  of  any  theory,  or  in  pur- 
suance of  any  deliberate  policy,  that  tribal  and  communal 
proprietorship  of  the  areas  occupied  originate;  but  simply 
from  the  necessities  of  the  case. 

Hence  the  prevalence  among  unrelated  peoples  of  this 
public  ownership  of  land,  here  and  there  partially  qualified 
by  temporary  private  ownership.  Some  hunting  tribes  of 
North  America  show  us  a stage  in  which  even  the  com- 
munal possession  is  still  vague.  Concerning  the  Dakotas 
Schoolcraft  says — 

“ Each  village  has  a certain  district  of  country  they  hunt  in,  but  do  not 
object  to  families  of  other  villages  hunting  with  them.  Among  the 
Dacotas,  I never  knew  an  instance  of  blood  being  shed  in  any  disputes 
or  difficulties  on  the  hunting  grounds.” 

Similarly  of  the  Comanches,  he  remarks  that  “ no  dispute 
ever  arises  between  tribes  with  regard  to  their  hunting 
grounds,  the  whole  being  held  in  common.”  Of  the  semi- 
settled  and  more  advanced  Iroquois,  Morgan  tells  us  that — 
“No  individual  could  obtain  the  absolute  title  to  land,  as  that  was 
vested  by  the  laws  of  the  Iroquois  in  all  the  people  ; but  he  could 
reduce  unoccupied  lands  to  cultivation  to  any  extent  he  pleased ; and  so 
long  as  he  continued  to  use  them,  his  right  to  their  enjoyment  was  pro- 
tected and  secured.” 

Sundry  pastoral  peoples  of  South  Africa  show  us  the  sur- 
vival of  such  arrangements  under  different  conditions. 

“ The  land  which  they  [the  Bechuanas]  inhabit  is  the  common  pro- 
perty of  the  whole  tribe,  as  a pasture  for  their  herds.” 

“ Being  entirely  a pastoral  people,  the  Damaras  have  no  notion  of 
permanent  habitations.  The  whole  country  is  considered  public  pro- 
perty. . . . There  is  an  understanding  that  he  who  arrives  first  at  any 
given  locality,  is  the  master  of  it  as  long  as  he  chooses  to  remain  there.” 

Kaffir  custom  “does  not  recognize  private  property  in  the  soil 
beyond  that  of  actual  possession.” 

“No  one  possesses  landed  property  ” [among  the  Koosas]  ; “he  sows 
his  corn  wherever  he  can  find  a convenient  spot.” 

And  various  of  the  uncivilized,  who  are  mainly  or  wholly 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


541 

agricultural,  exhibit  but  slight  modifications  of  this  usage. 
Though  by  the  New  Zealanders  some  extra  claim  of  the  chief 
is  recognized,  yet  “ all  free  persons,  male  and  female,  consti- 
tuting the  nation,  were  proprietors  of  the  soil:,,  there  is  a 
qualified  proprietorship  of  land,  obtained  by  cultivation, 
which  does  not  destroy  the  proprietorship  of  the  nation  or 
tribe.  In  Sumatra,  cultivation  gives  temporary  ownership  but 
nothing  more.  We  read  that  the  ground  “on  which  a man 
plants  or  builds,  with  the  consent  of  his  neighbours,  becomes 
a species  of  nominal  property ” ; but  when  the  trees  which 
he  has  planted  disappear  in  the  course  of  nature,  “ the  land 
reverts  to  the  public.”  From  a distant  region  may  be  cited  an 
instance  where  the  usages,  though  different  in  form,  involve 
the  same  principle.  Among  the  modern  Indians  of  Mexico — 

“ Only  a house-place  and  a garden  are  hereditary ; the  fields  belong  to 
the  village,  and  are  cultivated  every  year  without  anything  being  paid 
for  rent.  A portion  of  the  land  is  cultivated  in  common,  and  the  pro- 
ceeds are  devoted  to  the  communal  expenses.” 

This  joint  ownership  of  land,  qualified  by  individual  owner- 
ship only  so  far  as  circumstances  and  habits  make  it  easy  to 
mark  off  individual  claims,  leads  to  different  modes  of  using 
the  products  of  the  soil,  according  as  convenience  dictates. 
Anderson  tells  us  that  in  “Damara-land,  the  carcases  of  all 
animals — whether  wild  or  domesticated — are  considered 
public  property.”  Among  the  Todas — 

“ Whilst  the  land  is  in  each  case  the  property  of  the  village  itself, 

. . . the  cattle  which  graze  on  it  are  the  private  property  of  individuals, 
being  males.  . . . The  milk  of  the  entire  herd  is  lodged  in  the  paltlichi, 
village  dairy,  from  which  each  person,  male  and  female,  receives  for  his 
or  her  daily  consumj)tion ; the  unconsumed  balance  being  divided,  as 
personal  and  saleable  property,  amongst  the  male  members  of  all  ages, 
in  proportion  to  the  number  of  cattle  which  each  possesses  in  the  herd.” 

And  then  in  some  cases  joint  cultivation  leads  to  a kindred 
system  of  division. 

“ When  harvest  is  over,”  the  Congo  people  “ put  all  the  kidney -beans 
into  one  heap,  the  Indian  wheat  into  another,  and  so  of  other  grain  : 
then  giving  the  Macolonte  [chief]  enough  for  his  maintenance,  and  laying 
aside  what  they  design  for  sowing,  the  rest  is  divided  at  so  much  to 


PROPERTY. 


545 


every  cottage,  according  to  the  number  of  people  each  contains.  Then 
all  the  women  together  till  and  sow  the  land  for  a new  harvest.” 

In  Europe  an  allied  arrangement  is  exhibited  by  the  southern 
Slavs.  “ The  fruits  of  agricultural  labour  are  consumed  in 
common,  or  divided  equally  among  the  married  couples ; but 
the  produce  of  each  man's  industrial  labour  belongs  to  him 
individually."  Further,  some  of  the  Swiss  allmends  show 
us  a partial  survival  of  this  system ; for  besides  lands  which 
have  become  in  large  measure  private,  there  are  “ communal 
vineyards  cultivated  in  common,"  and  “there  are  also  cornlands 
cultivated  in  the  same  manner,"  and  “the  fruit  of  their  joint 
labour  forms  the  basis  of  the  banquets,  at  which  all  the 
members  of  the  commune  take  part." 

Thus  we  see  that  communal  ownership  and  family  owner- 
ship at  first  arose  and  long  continued  because,  in  respect  of  land, 
no  other  could  well  be  established.  Eecords  of  the  civilized 
show  that  writh  them  in  the  far  past,  as  at  present  with  the 
uncivilized,  private  possession,  beginning  with  movables, 
extends  itself  to  immovables  only  under  certain  conditions. 
We  have  evidence  of  this  in  the  fact  named  by  Mayer,  that 
“ the  Hebrew  language  has  no  expression  for  ‘ landed  pro- 
perty ; ’ " and  again  in  the  fact  alleged  by  Mommsen  of  the 
Eomans,  that  “ the  idea  of  property  was  primarily  associated 
not  with  immovable  estate,  but  with  ‘ estate  in  slaves  and 
cattle.'  " And  if,  recalling  the  circumstances  of  pastoral  life, 
as  carried  on  alike  by  Semites  and  Ayrans,  we  remember  that, 
as  before  shown,  the  patriarchal  group  is  a result  of  it ; we 
may  understand  how,  in  passing  into  the  settled  state,  there 
would  be  produced  such  forms  of  land-tenure  by  the  clan  and 
the  family  as,  with  minor  variations,  characterized  primitive 
European  societies.  It  becomes  comprehensible  why  among 
the  Eomans  “ in  the  earliest  times,  the  arable  land  was  cul- 
tivated in  common,  probably  by  the  several  clans ; each  of 
these  tilled  its  own  land,  and  thereafter  distributed  the  pro- 
duce among  the  several  households  belonging  to  it."  We  are 
shown  that  there  naturally  arose  such  arrangements  as  those 


546 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


of  the  ancient  Teutonic  mark — a territory  held  “ by  a primi- 
tive settlement  of  a family  or  kindred,”  each  free  male 
member  of  which  had  “ a right  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
woods,  the  pastures,  the  meadow,  and  the  arable  land  of  the 
mark but  whose  right  was  “ of  the  nature  of  usufruct  or 
possession  only,”  and  whose  allotted  private  division  became 
each  season  common  grazing  land  after  the  crop  had  been 
taken  off,  while  his  more  permanent  holding  was  limited  to 
his  homestead  and  its  immediate  surroundings.  And  we  may 
perceive  how  the  community’s  ownership  might  readily,  as 
circumstances  and  sentiments  determined,  result  here  in  an 
annual  use  of  apportioned  tracts,  here  in  a periodic  re-par- 
titioning, and  here  in  tenures  of  more  permanent  kinds, — still 
subject  to  the  supreme  right  of  the  whole  public. 

§ 539.  Induction  and  deduction  uniting  to  show,  as  they  do, 
that  at  first  land  is  common  property,  there  presents  itself  the 
question— How  did  possession  of  it  become  individualized  ? 
There  can  be  little  doubt  as  to  the  general  nature  of  the 
answer.  Force,  in  one  form  or  other,  is  the  sole  cause 
adequate  to  make  the  members  of  a society  yield  up  their 
joint  claim  to  the  area  they  inhabit.  Such  force  may  be  that 
of  an  external  aggressor  or  that  of  an  internal  aggressor ; but 
in  either  case  it  implies  militant  activity. 

The  first  evidence  of  this  which  meets  us  is  that  the  primi- 
tive system  of  land-ownership  has  lingered  longest  where 
circumstances  have  been  such  as  either  to  exclude  war  or 
to  minimize  it.  Already  I have  referred  to  a still-extant 
Teutonic  mark  existing  in  Drenthe,  “ surrounded  on  all  sides 
by  marsh  and  bog,”  forming  “ a kind  of  island  of  sand  and 
heath and  this  example,  before  named  as  showing  the  sur- 
vival of  free  judicial  institutions  where  free  institutions  at 
large  survive,  simultaneously  shows  the  communal  land- 
ownership  which  continues  while  men  are  unsubordinated. 
After  this  typical  case  may  be  named  one  not  far  distant, 
and  somewhat  akin — that,  namely,  which  occurs  “in  the 


PROPERTY. 


547 


sandy  district  of  the  Campine  and  beyond  the  Meuse,  in 
the  Ardennes  region,”  where  there  is  great  “ want  of  commu- 
nication the  implied  difficulty  of  access  and  the  poverty  of 
surface  making  relatively  small  the  temptation  to  invade. 
So  that  while,  says  Laveleye,  “ except  in  the  Ardennes, 
the  lord  had  succeeded  in  usurping  the  eminent  domain, 
without  however  destroying  the  inhabitants’  rights  of  user,” 
in  the  Ardennes  itself,  the  primitive  communal  possession 
survived.  Other  cases  show  that  the  mountainous  character 
of  a locality,  rendering  subjugation  by  external  or  internal 
force  impracticable,  furthers  maintenance  of  this  primitive 
institution,  as  of  other  primitive  institutions.  In  Switzerland, 
and  especially  in  its  Alpine  parts,  the  allmends  above  men- 
tioned, which  are  of  the  same  essential  nature  as  the  Teutonic 
marks,  have  continued  down  to  the  present  day.  Sundry 
kindred  regions  present  kindred  facts.  Ownership  of  land  by 
family-communities  is  still  to  be  found  “ in  the  hill-districts 
of  Lombardy.”  In  the  poverty-stricken  and  mountainous  por- 
tion of  Auvergne,  as  also  in  the  hilly  and  infertile  depart- 
ment of  Nievre,  there  are  still,  or  recently  have  been,  these 
original  joint-ownerships  of  land.  And  the  general  remark 
concerning  the  physical  circumstances  in  which  they  occur,  is 
that Ci  it  is  to  the  wildest  and  most  remote  spots  that  we 
must  go  in  search  of  them” — a truth  again  illustrated 
“ in  the  small  islands  of  Hcedic  and  Honat,  situated  not  far 
from  Belle  Isle  ” on  the  French  coast,  and  also  in  our  own 
islands  of  Orkney  and  Shetland. 

Contrariwise,  we  find  that  directly  by  invasion,  and  in- 
directly by  the  chronic  resistance  to  invasion  which  gene- 
rates those  class-inequalities  distinguishing  the  militant  type, 
there  is  produced  individualization  of  land-ownership,  in  one 
or  other  form.  All  the  world  over,  conquest  gives  a posses- 
sion that  is  unlimited  because  there  is  no  power  to  dispute 
it.  Along  with  other  spoils  of  war,  the  land  becomes  a spoil ; 
and,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  conquering  society,  is 
owned  wholly  by  the  despotic  conqueror,  or,  partially  and  in 


548 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


dependent  ways,  by  his  followers.  Of  the  first  result  there 
are  many  instances.  “ The  kings  of  Abyssinia  are  above  all 
laws  . . . the  land  and  persons  of  their  subjects  are  equally 
their  property.”  “ In  Kongo  the  king  hath  the  sole  property 
of  goods  and  lands,  which  he  can  grant  away  at  pleasure.” 
And  § 479  contains  sundry  other  examples  of  militant  socie- 
ties in  which  the  monarch,  otherwise  absolute,  is  absolute 
possessor  of  the  soil.  Of  the  second  result  instances  were 
given  in  § 458  ; and  I may  here  add  some  others.  Ancient 
Mexico  supplies  one. 

“ Montezuma  possessed  in  most  of  the  villages  . . . and  especially  in 
those  he  had  conquered,  fiefs  which  he  distributed  among  those  called 
6 the  gallant  fellows  of  Mexico.’  These  were  men  who  had  distinguished 
themselves  in  war.” 

Under  a more  primitive  form  the  like  was  done  in  Iceland  by 
the  invading  Norsemen. 

“ When  a chieftain  had  taken  possession  of  a district,  he  allotted  to 
each  of  the  freemen  who  accompanied  him  a certain  portion  of  land, 
erected  a temple  (hof),  and  became,  as  he  had  been  in  Norway,  the 
chief,  the  pontiff,  and  the  judge  of  the  herad.” 

But,  as  was  shown  when  treating  of  political  differentia- 
tion, it  is  not  only  by  external  aggressors  that  the  joint  pos- 
session by  all  freemen  of  the  area  they  inhabit  is  over-ridden. 
It  is  over-ridden,  also,  by  those  internal  aggressors  whose 
power  becomes  great  in  proportion  as  the  militancy  of  the 
society  becomes  chronic.  With  the  personal  subordination 
generated  by  warfare,  there  goes  such  subordination  of  owner- 
ship, that  lands  previously  held  absolutely  by  the  community, 
come  to  be  held  subject  to  the  claims  of  the  local  magnate ; 
until,  in  course  of  time,  the  greater  part  of  the  occupied  area 
falls  into  his  exclusive  possession,  and  only  a small  part  con- 
tinues to  be  common  property. 

To  complete  the  statement  it  must  be  added  that  occasion- 
ally, though  rarely,  the  passing  of  land  into  private  hands 
takes  place  neither  by  forcible  appropriation,  nor  by  the  gra- 
dual encroachment  of  a superior,  but  by  general  agreement. 
Where  there  exists  that  form  of  communal  ownership  under 


PROPERTY. 


549 


which  joint  cultivation  is  replaced  by  separate  cultivation  of 
parts  portioned  out — where  there  results  from  this  a system 
of  periodic  redistribution,  as  of  old  in  certain  Greek  states,  as 
among  the  ancient  Suevi,  and  as  even  down  to  our  own  times 
in  some  of  the  Swiss  allmends ; ownership  of  land  by  indi- 
viduals may  and  does  arise  from  cessation  of  the  redistribu- 
tion. Says  M.  de  Laveleye  concerning  the  Swiss  allmends — 
“in  the  work  of  M.  Rowalewsky,  we  see  how  the  communal 
lands  became  private  property  by  the  periodic  partitioning 
becoming  more  and  more  rare,  and  finally  falling  into 
desuetude.’*  When  not  otherwise  destroyed,  land-owning  by 
the  commune  tends  naturally  to  end  in  this  way.  For  besides 
the  inconveniences  attendant  on  re-localization  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  commune,  positive  losses  must  be  entailed  by  it 
on  many.  Out  of  the  whole  number,  the  less  skilful  and  less 
diligent  will  have  reduced  their  plots  to  lower  degrees  of 
fertility ; and  the  rest  will  have  a motive  for  opposing  a re- 
distribution which,  depriving  them  of  the  benefits  of  past 
labours,  makes  over  these  or  parts  of  them  to  the  relatively 
unworthy.  Evidently  this  motive  is  likely,  in  course  of 
time,  to  cause  refusal  to  re-divide;  and  permanent  private 
possession  will  result. 

§ 540.  An  important  factor  not  yet  noticed  has  cooperated 
in  individualizing  property,  both  movable  and  fixed ; namely, 
the  establishment  of  measures  of  quantity  and  value.  Only 
the  rudest  balancing  of  claims  can  be  made  before  there  come 
into  use  appliances  for  estimating  amounts.  At  the  outset, 
ownership  exists  only  in  respect  of  things  actually  made  or 
obtained  by  the  labour  of  the  owner;  and  is  therefore  nar- 
rowly limited  in  range.  But  when  exchange  arises  and 
spreads,  first  under  the  indefinite  form  of  barter  and  then 
under  the  definite  form  of  sale  and  purchase  by  means  of  a 
circulating  medium,  it  becomes  easy  for  ownership  to  extend 
itself  to  other  things.  Observe  how  clearly  this  extension 
depends  on  the  implied  progress  of  industrialism. 


550 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


It  was  pointed  out  in  § 319  that  during  the  pastoral  stage, 
it  is  impracticable  to  assign  to  each  member  of  the  family- 
community,  or  to  each  of  its  dependents,  such  part  of  the  pro- 
duce or  other  property  as  is  proportionate  to  the  value  of  his 
labour.  Though  in  the  case  of  J acob  and  Laban  the  bargain 
made  for  services  was  one  into  which  some  idea  of  equiva- 
lence entered,  yet  it  was  an  extremely  rude  idea ; and  by  no 
such  bargains  could  numerous  transactions,  or  transactions  of 
smaller  kinds,  be  effected.  On  asking  what  must  happen 
when  the  patriarchal  group,  becoming  settled,  assumes  one  or 
other  enlarged  form,  we  see  that  reverence  for  traditional 
usages,  and  the  necessity  of  union  for  mutual  defence,  con- 
spire to  maintain  the  system  of  joint  production  and  joint 
consumption : individualization  of  property  is  still  hindered. 
Though  under  such  conditions  each  person  establishes  private 
ownership  in  respect  of  things  on  which  he  has  expended 
separate  labour,  or  things  received  in  exchange  for  such 
products  of  his  separate  labour ; yet  only  a small  amount  of 
property  thus  distinguished  as  private,  can  be  acquired.  The 
greater  part  of  his  labour,  mixed  with  that  of  others,  brings 
returns  inseparable  from  the  returns  of  their  labours  ; and  the 
united  returns  must  therefore  be  enjoyed  in  common.  But 
as  fast  as  it  becomes  safer  to  dispense  with  the  protection  of 
the  family-group ; and  as  fast  as  increasing  commercial  inter- 
course opens  careers  for  those  who  leave  their  groups ; and  as 
fast  as  the  use  of  money  and  measures  gives  definiteness  to 
exchanges ; there  come  opportunities  for  accumulating  indi- 
vidual possessions,  as  distinguished  from  joint  possessions. 
And  since  among  those  who  labour  together  and  live  together, 
there  will  inevitably  be  some  who  feel  restive  under  the 
imposed  restraints,  and  also  some  (usually  the  same)  who 
feel  dissatisfied  with  the  equal  sharing  among  those  whose 
labours  are  not  of  equal  values ; it  is  inferable  that  these 
opportunities  will  be  seized : private  ownership  will  spread 
at  the  expense  of  public  ownership.  Some  illustrations 
may  be  given.  Speaking  of  the  family-communities  of  the 


PKOPERTY. 


551 


Southern  Slavs,  mostly  in  course  of  dissolution,  M.  de 
Laveleye  says — 

“ The  family-group  was  far  more  capable  of  defending  itself  against  the 
severity  of  Turkish  rule  than  were  isolated  individuals.  Accordingly, 
it  is  in  this  part  of  the  southern  Slav  district  that  family-communities 
are  best  preserved,  and  still  form  the  basis  of  social  order.” 

The  influence  of  commercial  activity  as  conducing  to  dis- 
integration, is  shown  by  the  fact  that  these  family-commu- 
nities ordinarily  hold  together  only  in  rural  districts. 

“ In  the  neighbourhood  of  the  towns  the  more  varied  life  has  weakened 
the  ancient  family-sentiment.  Many  communities  have  been  dissolved, 
their  property  divided  and  sold,  and  their  members  have  degenerated 
into  mere  tenants  and  proletarians.” 

And  then  the  effect  of  a desire,  alike  for  personal  independ- 
ence and  for  the  exclusive  enjoyment  of  benefits  consequent 
on  superiority,  is  recognized  in  the  remark  that  these  family- 
communities— 

u cannot  easily  withstand  the  conditions  of  a society  in  which  men  are 
striving  to  improve  their  own  lot,  as  well  as  the  political  and  social 
organization  under  which  they  live.  . . . Once  the  desire  of  self -aggran- 
disement awakened,  man  can  no  longer  support  the  yoke  of  the  zadruga. 
...  To  live  according  to  his  own  will,  to  work  for  himself  alone,  to 
drink  from  his  own  cup,  is  now  the  end  preeminently  sought.” 

That  this  cause  of  disintegration  is  general,  is  implied  by 
passages  concerning  similar  communities  still  existing  in  the 
hill-districts  of  Lombardy — that  is,  away  from  the  centres  of 
mercantile  activity.  Growing  averse  to  the  control  of  the 
house-fathers,  the  members  of  these  communities  say — 

“ ‘ Why  should  we  and  all  our  belongings  remain  in  subjection  to  a 
master  ? It  were  far  the  best  for  each  to  work  and  think  for  himself. 
As  the  profits  derived  from  any  handicraft  form  a sort  of  private 
peculium , the  associates  are  tempted  to  enlarge  this  at  the  expense  of 
the  common  revenue.”  And  then  “ the  craving  to  live  independently 
carries  him  away,  and  he  quits  the  community.” 

All  which  evidence  shows  that  the  progress  of  industrialism 
is  the  general  cause  of  this  growing  individualization  of  pro- 
perty ; for  such  progress  is  pre-supposed  alike  by  the  greater 
security  which  makes  it  safe  to  live  separately,  by  the  in- 


552 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


creased  opportunity  for  those  sales  which  further  the  accu- 
mulation of  a peculium , and  by  the  use  of  measures  of 
quantity  and  value : these  being  implied  primarily  by  such 
sales,  and  secondarily  by  the  sale  and  division  of  all  that  has 
been  held  in  common. 

Spread  of  private  ownership,  which  thus  goes  along  with 
decay  of  the  system  of  status  and  growth  of  the  system 
of  contract,  naturally  passes  on  from  movable  property  to 
fixed  property.  For  when  the  multiplication  of  trading 
transactions  has  made  it  possible  for  each  member  of  a 
family-community  to  accumulate  a peculium ; and  when  the 
strengthening  desire  for  individual  domestic  life  has  im- 
pelled the  majority  of  the  community  to  sell  the  land  which 
they  have  jointly  inherited ; the  several  portions  of  it, 
whether  sold  to  separate  members  of  the  body  or  to  strangers, 
are  thus  reduced  by  definite  agreement  to  the  form  of  indi- 
vidual properties;  and  private  ownership  of  land  thereby 
acquires  a character  apparently  like  that  of  other  private 
ownership.  In  other  ways,  too,  this  result  is  furthered 

by  developing  industrialism.  If,  omitting  as  not  relevant 
the  cases  in  which  the  absolute  ruler  allows  no  rights  of  pro- 
perty, landed  or  other,  to  his  subjects,  we  pass  to  the  cases  in 
which  a conqueror  recognizes  a partial  ownership  of  land  by 
those  to  whom  he  has  parcelled  it  out  on  condition  of  render- 
ing services  and  paying  dues,  we  see  that  the  private  land- 
ownership  established  by  militancy  is  an  incomplete  one.  It 
has  various  incompletenesses.  The  ownership  by  the  suzerain 
is  qualified  by  the  rights  he  has  made  over  to  his  vassals ; 
the  rights  of  the  vassals  are  qualified  by  the  conditions  of 
their  tenure  ; and  they  are  further  qualified  by  the  claims  of 
serfs  and  other  dependents,  who,  while  bound  to  specified 
services,  have  specified  shares  of  produce.  But  with  the 
decline  of  militancy  and  concomitant  disappearance  of  vassal- 
age,  the  obligations  of  the  tenure  diminish  and  finally  almost 
lapse  out  of  recognition  ; while,  simultaneously,  abolition  of 
serfdom  destroys  or  obscures  the  other  claims  which  qualified 


PROPERTY. 


553 


private  land-ownership.*  As  both  changes  are  accompani- 
ments of  a developing  industrialism,  it  follows  that  in  these 
ways  also,  the  individualization  of  property  in  land  is 
furthered  by  it. 

At  first  sight  it  seems  fairly  inferable  that  the  absolute 
ownership  of  land  by  private  persons,  must  be  the  ultimate 
state  which  industrialism  brings  about.  But  though  indus- 
trialism has  thus  far  tended  to  individualize  possession  of 
land,  while  individualizing  all  other  possession,  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  the  final  stage  is  at  present  reached. 
Ownership  established  by  force  does  not  stand  on  the  same 
footing  as  ownership  established  by  contract ; and  though 
multiplied  sales  and  purchases,  treating  the  two  ownerships 
in  the  same  way,  have  tacitly  assimilated  them,  the  assimi- 
lation may  eventually  be  denied.  The  analogy  furnished 
by  assumed  rights  of  possession  over  human  beings,  helps 
us  to  recognize  this  possibility.  For  while  prisoners  of  war, 
taken  by  force  and  held  as  property  in  a vague  way  (being  at 
first  much  on  a footing  with  other  members  of  a household), 
-were  reduced  more  definitely  to  the  form  of  property  when 
the  buying  and  selling  of  slaves  became  general ; and  while 
it  might,  centuries  ago,  have  been  thence  inferred  that  the 
ownership  of  man  by  man  was  an  ownership  in  course  of 
being  permanently  established  ; yet  we  see  that  a later  stage 
of  civilization,  reversing  this  process,  has  destroyed  owner- 
ship of  man  by  man.  Similarly,  at  a stage  still  more  advanced 
it  may  be  that  private  ownership  of  land  will  disappear.  As 
that  primitive  freedom  of  the  individual  which  existed  before 
war  established  coercive  institutions  and  personal  slavery, 
comes  to  be  re-established  as  militancy  declines ; so  it  seems 
possible  that  the  primitive  ownership  of  land  by  the  com- 
munity, which,  with  the  development  of  coercive  institutions, 
lapsed  in  large  measure  or  wholly  into  private  ownership,  will 

* In  our  own  case  the  definite  ending  of  these  tenures  took  place  in  1660 ; 
when,  for  feudal  obligations  (a  burden  on  landowners)  was  substituted  a 
beer-excise  (a  burden  on  the  community). 


554 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


be  revived  as  industrialism  further  develops.  The  regime  of 
contract,  at  present  so  far  extended  that  the  right  of  property 
in  movables  is  recognized  only  as  having  arisen  by  exchange 
of  services  or  products  under  agreements,  or  by  gift  from  those 
who  had  acquired  it  under  such  agreements,  may  be  further 
extended  so  far  that  the  products  of  the  soil  will  be  recog- 
nized as  property  only  by  virtue  of  agreements  between  indi- 
viduals as  tenants  and  the  community  as  landowner.  Even 
now,  among  ourselves,  private  ownership  of  land  is  not  abso- 
lute. In  legal  theory  landowners  are  directly  or  indirectly 
tenants  of  the  Crown  (which  in  our  day  is  equivalent  to  the 
State,  or,  in  other  words,  the  Community);  and  the  Community 
from  time  to  time  resumes  possession  after  making  due  com- 
pensation. Perhaps  the  right  of  the  Community  to  the 
land,  thus  tacitly  asserted,  will  in  time  to  come  be  overtly 
asserted ; and  acted  upon  after  making  full  allowance  for  the 
accumulated  value  artificially  given. 

§ 541.  The  rise  and  development  of  arrangements  which 
fix  and  regulate  private  possession,  thus  admit  of  tolerably 
clear  delineation. 

The  desire  to  appropriate,  and  to  keep  that  which  has  been 
appropriated,  lies  deep,  not  in  human  nature  only,  but  in 
animal  nature : being,  indeed,  a condition  to  survival.  The 
consciousness  that  conflict,  and  consequent  injury,  may  pro- 
bably result  from  the  endeavour  to  take  that  which  is  held 
by  another,  ever  tends  to  establish  and  strengthen  the  custom 
of  leaving  each  in  possession  of  whatever  he  has  obtained  by 
labour ; and  this  custom  takes  among  primitive  men  the  shape 
of  an  overtly-admitted  claim. 

This  claim  to  private  ownership,  fully  recognized  in  respect 
of  movables  made  by  the  possessor,  and  fully  or  partially 
recognized  in  respect  of  game  killed  on  the  territory  over 
which  members  of  the  community  wander,  is  not  recognized 
in  respect  of  this  territory  itself,  or  tracts  of  it.  Property  is 
individualized  as  far  as  circumstances  allow  individual  claims 


PROPERTY. 


555 


to  be  marked  off  with  some  definiteness ; but  it  is  not  indi- 
vidualized in  respect  of  land,  because,  under  the  conditions, 
no  individual  claims  can  be  shown,  or  could  be  effectually 
marked  off  were  they  shown. 

With  the  passage  from  a nomadic  to  a settled  state,  owner- 
ship of  land  by  the  community  becomes  qualified  by  indi- 
vidual ownership;  but  only  to  the  extent  that  those  who 
clear  and  cultivate  portions  of  the  surface  have  undisturbed 
enjoyment  of  its  produce.  Habitually  the  public  claim  sur- 
vives ; and  either  when,  after  a few  crops,  the  cleared  tract 
is  abandoned,  or  when,  after  transmission  to  descendants,  it 
has  ceased  to  be  used  by  them,  it  reverts  to  the  community. 
And  this  system  of  temporary  ownership,  congruous  with 
the  sentiments  and  usages  inherited  from  ancestral  nomads, 
is  associated  also  with  an  undeveloped  agriculture : land 
becoming  exhausted  after  a few  years. 

Where  the  patriarchal  form  of  organization  has  been 
carried  from  the  pastoral  state  into  the  settled  state,  and, 
sanctified  by  tradition,  is  also  maintained  for  purposes  of 
mutual  protection,  possession  of  land  partly  by  the  clan  and 
partly  by  the  family,  long  continues ; at  the  same  time  that 
there  is  separate  possession  of  things  produced  by  separate 
labour.  And  while  in  some  cases  the  communal  land- 
ownership,  or  family  land-ownership,  survives,  it  in  other 
cases  yields  in  various  modes  and  degrees  to  qualified  forms 
of  private  ownership,  mostly  temporary,  and  subject  to 
supreme  ownership  by  the  public. 

But  war,  both  by  producing  class-differentiations  within 
each  society,  and  by  effecting  the  subjugation  of  one  society 
by  another,  undermines  or  destroys  communal  proprietorship 
of  land ; and  partly  or  wholly  substitutes  for  it,  either  the 
unqualified  proprietorship  of  an  absolute  conqueror,  or  pro- 
prietorship by  a conqueror  qualified  by  the  claims  of  vassals 
holding  it  under  certain  conditions,  while  their  claims  are 
in  turn  qualified  by  those  of  dependents  attached  to  the  soil. 
That  is  to  say,  the  system  of  status  which  militancy  develops, 
15 


556 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


involves  a graduated  ownership  of  land  as  it  does  a graduated 
ownership  of  persons. 

Complete  individualization  of  ownership  is  an  accompani- 
ment of  industrial  progress.  From  the  beginning,  things 
identified  as  products  of  a man's  own  labour  are  recognized 
as  his ; and  throughout  the  course  of  civilization,  communal 
possession  and  joint  household  living,  have  not  excluded  the 
recognition  of  a peculium  obtained  by  individual  effort.  Accu- 
mulation of  movables  privately  possessed,  arising  in  this  way, 
increases  as  militancy  is  restrained  by  growing  industrialism ; 
because  this  pre-supposes  greater  facility  for  disposing  of 
industrial  products ; because  there  come  along  with  it 
measures  of  quantity  and  value,  furthering  exchange ; and 
because  the  more  pacific  relations  implied,  render  it  safer 
for  men  to  detach  themselves  from  the  groups  in  which  they 
previously  kept  together  for  mutual  protection.  The  indi- 
vidualization of  ownership,  extended  and  made  more  definite 
by  trading  transactions  under  contract,  eventually  affects 
the  ownership  of  land.  Bought  and  sold  by  measure  and  for 
money,  land  is  assimilated  in  this  respect  to  the  personal 
property  produced  by  labour ; and  thus  becomes,  in  the 
general  apprehension,  confounded  with  it.  But  there  is 
reason  to  suspect  that  while  private  possession  of  things  pro- 
duced by  labour,  will  grow  even  more  definite  and  sacred  than 
at  present ; the  inhabited  area,  which  cannot  be  produced  by 
labour,  will  eventually  be  distinguished  as  something  which 
may  not  be  privately  possessed.  As  the  individual,  primitively 
owner  of  himself,  partially  or  wholly  loses  ownership  of  him- 
self during  the  militant  regime , but  gradually  resumes  it  as 
the  industrial  regime  develops ; so,  possibly,  the  communal 
proprietorship  of  land,  partially  or  wholly  merged  in  the 
ownership  of  dominant  men  during  evolution  of  the  militant 
type,  will  be  resumed  as  the  industrial  type  becomes  fully- 
evolved. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


EEYENUE. 

§ 542.  P>roadly  dividing  the  products  of  men’s  labours  into 
the  part  which  remains  with  them  for  private  purposes  and 
the  part  taken  from  them  for  public  purposes ; and  recog- 
nizing the  truism  that  the  revenue  constituted  by  this  last 
part  must  increase  with  the  development  of  the  public  organi- 
zation supported  by  it ; we  may  be  prepared  for  the  fact  that 
in  early  stages  of  social  evolution,  nothing  answering  to 
revenue  exists. 

The  political  head  being  at  first  distinguished  from  other 
members  of  the  community  merely  by  some  personal  supe- 
riority, his  power,  often  recognized  only  during  war,  is, 
if  recognized  at  other  times,  so  slight  as  to  bring  him  no  mate- 
rial advantage.  Habitually  in  rude  tribes  he  provides  for 
himself  as  a private  man.  Sometimes,  indeed,  instead  of 
gaining  by  his  distinction  he  loses  by  it.  Among  the  Dako- 
tas “ the  civil-chiefs  and  war-chiefs  are  distinguished  from 
the  rest  by  their  poverty.  They  generally  are  poorer  clad 
than  any  of  the  rest.”  A statement  concerning  the  Abipones 
shows  us  why  this  occasionally  happens. 

“ The  cacique  has  nothing,  either  in  his  arms  or  his  clothes,  to  distin- 
guish him  from  a common  man,  except  the  peculiar  oldness  and  shabbi- 
ness of  them  ; for  if  he  appears  in  the  streets  with  new  and  handsome 
apparel,  . . . the  first  person  he  meets  will  boldly  cry,  Give  me  that 
dress  . . . and  unless  he  immediately  parts  with  it,  he  becomes  the 
scoff  and  the  scorn  of  all,  and  hears  himself  called  covetous.” 

Among  the  Patagonians  the  burdens  entailed  by  relieving 
and  protecting  inferiors,  lead  to  abdication.  Many  “bora 


558 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Caciques  refuse  to  have  any  vassals ; as  they  cost  them  dear, 
and  yield  but  little  profit.” 

Generally,  however,  and  always  where  war  increases  his 
predominance,  the  leading  warrior  begins  to  be  distinguished 
by  wealth  accruing  to  him  in  sundry  ways.  The  superiority 
which  gains  him  supremacy,  implying  as  it  mostly  does 
greater  skill  and  energy,  conduces  to  accumulation : not 
uncommonly,  as  we  have  seen,  (§  472)  the  primitive  chief  is 
also  the  rich  man.  And  this  possession  of  much  private 
property  grows  into  a conspicuous  attribute  when,  in  the 
settled  state,  land  held  by  the  community  begins  to  be  appro- 
priated by  its  more  powerful  members.  Eulers  habitually 
become  large  landowners.  In  ancient  Egypt  there  were  royal 
lands.  Of  the  primitive  Greek  king  we  read  that  “ an  ample 
domain  is  assigned  to  him  [?  taken  by  him]  as  an  appur- 
tenance of  his  lofty  position.”  And  among  other  peoples  in 
later  times,  we  find  the  monarch  owning  great  estates.  The 
income  hence  derived,  continues  to  the  last  to  represent  that 
revenue  which  the  political  head  originally  had,  when  he 
began  to  be  marked  off  from  the  rest  only  by  some  personal 
merit. 

Such  larger  amount  of  private  means  as  thus  usually  dis- 
tinguishes the  head  man  at  the  outset,  augments  as  successful 
war,  increasing  his  predominance,  brings  him  an  increasing 
portion  of  the  spoils  of  conquered  peoples.  In  early  stages  it 
is  the  custom  for  each  warrior  to  keep  whatever  he  personally 
takes  in  battle;  while  that  which  is  taken  jointly  is  in  some 
cases  equally  divided.  But  of  course  the  chief  is  apt  to  get 
an  extra  share ; either  by  actual  capture,  or  by  the  willing 
award  of  his  comrades,  or,  it  may  be,  by  forcible  appropriation. 
And  as  his  power  grows,  this  forcible  appropriation  is  yielded 
to,  sometimes  tacitly,  sometimes  under  protest;  as  we  are 
shown  by  the  central  incident  in  the  Iliad . Through  later 
stages  his  portion  of  plunder,  reserved  before  division  of  the 
remainder  among  followers,  continues  to  be  a source  of 
revenue.  And  where  he  becomes  absolute,  the  property  taken 


REVENUE. 


559 


from  tlie  vanquished,  lessened  only  by  such  portions  as  he 
gives  in  reward  for  services,  augments  his  means  of  sup- 
porting his  dependents  and  maintaining  his  supremacy. 

To  these  sources  of  income  which  may  be  classed  as  inci- 
dental, is  simultaneously  added  a source  which  is  constant. 
When  predominance  of  the  chief  has  become  so  decided  that 
he  is  feared,  he  begins  to  receive  propitiatory  presents; 
at  first  occasionally  and  afterwards  periodically.  Already  in 
§§  369-71,  when  treating  of  presents  under  their  .ceremo- 
nial aspects,  I have  given  illustrations ; and  many  more 
may  be  added.  Describing  the  king  among  the  Homeric 
Greeks,  Grote  writes — “ Moreover  he  receives  frequent  pre- 
sents, to  avert  his  enmity,  to  conciliate  his  favour,  or  to 
buy  olf  his  exactions.”  So,  too,  of  the  primitive  Germans, 
we  are  told  by  Tacitus  that  “ it  is  the  custom  of  the 
states  to  bestow  by  voluntary  and  individual  contribution 
on  the  chiefs,  a present  of  cattle  or  of  grain,  which,  while 
accepted  as  a compliment,  supplies  their  wants.”  And  gifts 
to  the  ruler  voluntarily  made  to  obtain  good  will,  or  prevent 
ill  will,  continue  to  be  a source  of  revenue  until  quite  late 
stages.  Among  ourselves  “ during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth, 
the  custom  of  presenting  Hew  Year's  gifts  to  the  sovereign 
was  carried  to  an  extravagant  height ;”  and  even  “ in  the 
reign  of  James  I.  the  money  gifts  seem  to  have  been  con- 
tinued for  some  time.” 

Along  with  offerings  of  money  and  goods  there  go  offerings 
of  labour.  Hot  unfrequently  in  primitive  communities,  it  is  the 
custom  for  all  to  join  in  building  a new  house  or  clearing  a plot 
of  ground  for  one  of  their  number : such  benefits  being  recipro- 
cated. Of  course  the  growing  predominance  of  a political 
head,  results  in  a more  extensive  yielding  of  gratuitous  labour 
for  his  benefit,  in  these  and  other  ways.  The  same  motives 
which  prompt  gifts  to  the  ruler  prompt  offers  of  help  to  him 
more  than  to  other  persons ; and  thus  the  custom  of  working 
for  him  grows  into  a usage.  We  read  of  the  village  chief 
among  the  Guaranis  that  “his  subjects  cultivated  for  him 


560 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


his  plantation,  and  he  enjoyed  certain  privileges  on  divi- 
sion of  the  spoils  of  the  chase.  Otherwise  he  possessed  no 
marks  of  distinction/7  And  the  like  practice  was  followed 
by  some  historic  races  during  early  stages.  In  ancient  Rome 
it  was  “ the  privilege  of  the  king  to  have  his  fields  tilled  by 
taskwork  of  the  burgesses/' 

§ 543.  Growth  of  the  regular  and  definite  out  of  the  irre- 
gular and  indefinite,  variously  exemplified  in  the  loregoing 
chapters,  is  here  again  exemplified  very  clearly,  Tor,  as 
already  said,  it  is  from  propitiatory  presents  and  services,  at 
first  spontaneous  and  incidental,  that  there  eventually  come 
taxes  specified  in  their  amounts  and  times  of  payment. 

It  needs  but  to  observe  how  such  a custom  as  that  of 
making  wedding-presents  has  acquired  a partially  coercive 
character,  to  understand  how,  when  once  there  begins  the 
practice  of  seeking  the  good  will  of  the  headman  by  a gift, 
this  practice  is  apt  to  be  established.  One  having  gained  by 
it,  another  follows  his  example.  The  more  generally  the 
example  is  followed  the  greater  becomes  the  disadvantage  to 
those  wTho  do  not  follow  it.  Until  at  length  all  give  because 
none  dare  stand  conspicuous  as  exceptions.  Of  course  if 
some  repeat  the  presents  upon  such  occasions  as  first  prompted 
them,  others  have  to  do  the  like ; and  at  length  the  periodic 
obligation  becomes  so  peremptory,  that  the  gift  is  demanded 
when  it  is  not  offered.  In  Loango,  where  presents  are  expected 
from  all  free  subjects,  “ if  the  king  thinks  they  do  not  give 
enough,  he  sends  slaves  to  their  places  to  take  what  they 
have/7  Among  the  Tongans,  who  from  time  to  time  give  their 
king  or  chief  “ yams,  mats,  gnatoo,  dried  fish,  live  birds,  &c.,” 
the  quantity  is  determined  “ generally  by  the  will  of  each 
individual,  who  will  always  take  care  to  send  as  much  as  he 
can  well  afford,  lest  the  superior  chief  should  be  offended 
with  him,  and  deprive  him  of  all  that  he  has.”  At  the 
present  time  in  Cashmere,  at  the  spring  festival,  “ it  is  the 
custom  ...  for  the  Maharajah's  servants  to  bring  him  a 


REVENUE. 


561 


nazar,  a present.  . . . This  has  now  become  so  regulated  that 
every  one  is  on  these  days  [festivals]  obliged  to  give  from  a 
10th  to  a 12th  of  his  monthly  pay.  . . . The  name  of  each  is 
read  from  a list,  and  the  amount  of  his  nazar  is  marked 
down : those  that  are  absent  will  have  the  sum  deducted 
from  their  pay.”  Traces  of  a like  transition  are  seen  in  the 
fact  that  in  ancient  times  crowns  of  gold,  beginning  as 
gifts  made  by  dependent  states  to  Eastern  rulers,  and  by 
Boman  provinces  to  generals  or  pro-consuls,  became  sums  of 
money  demanded  as  of  right ; and  again  in  the  fact  that  in 
our  own  early  history,  we  read  of  “exactions  called  benevo- 
lences.” 

Similarly  with  the  labour  which,  at  first  voluntarily  given 
to  the  chief,  comes,  as  his  power  grows,  to  be  compulsory. 
Here  are  some  illustrations  showing  stages  in  the  transition. 
A Kafir  chief  “ summons  the  people  to  cultivate  his  gardens,  reap  his 
crops,  and  make  his  fences  ; but  in  this,  as  in  other  respects,  he  has  to 
consult  the  popular  will,  and  hence  the  manual  labour  required  by 
the  chiefs  has  always  been  of  very  limited  duration.” 

In  the  Sandwich  Islands,  “ when  a chief  wants  a house,  he  requires 
the  labour  of  all  who  hold  lands  under  him.  . . . Each  division  of  the 
people  has  a part  of  the  house  allotted  by  the  chief  in  proportion  to  its 
number.” 

In  ancient  Mexico  “ the  personal  and  common  service  which  fur- 
nished the  water  and  wood  required  every  day  in  the  houses  of  the 
chiefs,  was  distributed  from  day  to  day  among  the  villages  and  quar- 
ters.” 

It  was  the  same  in  Yucatan  : “ the  whole  community  did  the  sowing 
for  the  lord,  looked  after  the  seed,  and  harvested  what  was  required 
for  him  and  his  house.” 

So  in  the  adjacent  regions  of  Guatemala  and  San  Salvador, 
“ the  tribute  was  paid  by  means  of  the  cultivation  of  estates.” 
And  in  Madagascar  “ the  whole  population  is  liable  to  be 
employed  on  government  work,  without  remuneration,  and 
for  any  length  of  time.” 

Occurring  among  peoples  unallied  in  blood  and  unlike  in 
their  stages  of  civilization,  these  facts  show  the  natural 
growing  up  of  a forced  labour  system  such  as  that  which 
existed  during  feudal  times  throughout  Europe,  when  labour 


562 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


was  exacted  from  dependents  by  local  rulers,  and  became 
also  a form  of  tribute  to  the  central  ruler ; as  instance  the 
specified  numbers  of  days’  work  which,  before  the  Revolution, 
had  to  be  given  by  French  peasants  to  the  State  under  the 
name  of  corvfo. 

After  presents  freely  given  have  passed  into  presents 
expected  and  finally  demanded,  and  volunteered  help  has 
passed  into  exacted  service,  the  way  is  open  for  a further 
step.  Change  from  the  voluntary  to  the  compulsory,  accom- 
panied as  it  necessarily  is  by  specification  of  the  amounts 
of  commodities  and  work  required,  is  apt  to  be  followed 
eventually  by  substitution  of  money  payments.  Daring 
stages  in  which  there  has  not  arisen  a circulating  medium, 
the  ruler,  local  or  general,  is  paid  his  revenue  in  kind.  In 
Fiji  a chiefs  house  is  supplied  with  daily  food  by  his  depen- 
dents ; and  tribute  is  paid  by  the  chiefs  to  the  king  “in  yams, 
taro,  pigs,  fowls,  native  cloth,  &c In  Tahiti,  where  besides 
supplies  derived  from  “ the  hereditary  districts  of  the  reigning 
family,”  there  were  “ requisitions  made  upon  the  people;”  the 
food  was  generally  brought  cooked.  In  early  European 
societies,  too,  the  expected  donations  to  the  ruler  continued  to 
be  made  partly  in  goods,  animals,  clothes,  and  valuables  of 
all  kinds,  long  after  money  was  in  use.  But  the  convenience 
both  of  giver  and  receiver  prompts  commutation,  when  the 
values  of  the  presents  looked  for  have  become  settled.  And 
from  kindred  causes  there  also  comes,  as  we  have  seen  in  a 
previous  chapter,  commutation  of  military  services  and  com- 
mutation of  labour  services.  No  matter  what  its  nature,  that 
which  was  at  first  spontaneously  offered,  eventually  becomes 
a definite  sum  taken,  if  need  be,  by  force — a tax. 

§ 544.  At  the  same  time  his  growing  power  enables  the 
political  head  to  enforce  demands  of  many  other  kinds. 
European  histories  furnish  ample  proofs. 

Besides  more  settled  sources  of  revenue,  there  had,  in  the 
early  feudal  period,  been  established  such  others  as  are  typi- 


REVENUE. 


563 


cally  illustrated  by  a statement  concerning  the  Dukes  of 
Normandy  in  the  12th  century.  They  profited  by  escheats 
(lands  reverting  to  the  monarch  in  default  of  posterity  of  the 
first  baron) ; by  guardianships  and  reliefs ; by  seizure  of  the 
property  of  deceased  prelates,  usurers,  excommunicated  per- 
sons, suicides,  and  certain  criminals;  and  by  treasure-trove. 
They  were  paid  for  conceded  privileges ; and  for  confirmations 
of  previous  concessions.  They  received  bribes  when  desired 
to  do  justice ; and  were  paid  fines  by  those  who  wished  to  be 
maintained  in  possession  of  property,  or  to  get  liberty  to 
exercise  certain  rights.  In  England,  under  the  Norman 
kings,  there  were  such  other  sources  of  revenue  as  composi- 
tions paid  by  heirs  before  taking  possession ; sales  of  ward- 
ships ; sales  to  male  heirs  of  rights  to  choose  their  wives ; 
sales  of  charters  to  towns,  and  subsequent  re-sales  of  such 
charters ; sales  of  permissions  to  trade ; and  there  was  also 
what  was  called  “ moneyage  ” — a shilling  paid  every  three 
years  by  each  hearth  to  induce  the  king  not  to  debase  the 
coinage.  Advantage  was  taken  of  every  favourable  oppor- 
tunity for  making  and  enforcing  a demand ; as  we  see  in  such 
facts  as  that  it  was  customary  to  mulct  a discharged  official, 
and  that  Eichard  I.  “ compelled  his  father’s  servants  to  re- 
purchase their  offices.” 

Showing  us,  as  such  illustrations  do,  that  these  arbitrary 
seizures  and  exactions  are  numerous  and  heavy  in  proportion 
as  the  power  of  the  ruler  is  little  restrained,  the  implication  is 
that  they  reach  their  extreme  where  the  social  organization  is 
typically  militant.  Evidence  that  this  is  so,  was  given  in 
§ 443 ; and  in  the  next  chapter,  under  another  head,  we  shall 
meet  with  more  of  it. 

§ 545.  While,  in  the  ways  named  in  the  foregoing  sections, 
there  arise  direct  taxes,  there  simultaneously  arise,  and 
insensibly  diverge,  the  taxes  eventually  distinguished  as 
indirect.  These  begin  as  demands  made  on  those  who  have 
got  considerable  quantities  of  commodities  exposed  in  transit, 


564 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS* 


or  on  sale ; and  of  which  parts,  originally  offered  as  presents, 
are  subsequently  seized  as  dues. 

Under  other  heads  I have  referred  to  the  familiar  fact  that 
travellers  among  rude  peoples  make  propitiatory  gifts  ; and 
by  frequent  recurrence  the  reception  of  these  generates  a 
claim.  Narratives  of  recent  African  explorers  confirm  the 
statements  of  Livingstone,  who  describes  the  Portuguese  traders 
among  the  Quanga  people  as  giving  largely,  because  “ if  they 
did  not  secure  the  friendship  of  these  petty  chiefs,  many 
slaves  might  be  stolen  with  their  loads  while  passing  through 
the  forests  ; ” and  who  says  of  a Balonda  chief  that  “ he 
seemed  to  regard  these  presents  as  his  proper  dues,  and  as  a 
cargo  of  goods  had  come  by  Senhor  Pascoal,he  entered  the  house 
for  the  purpose  of  receiving  his  share.”  Various  cases  show 
that  instead  of  attempting  to  take  all  at  the  risk  of  a fight,  the 
head  man  enters  into  a compromise  under  which  part  is  given 
without  a fight ; as  instance  the  habitual  arrangement  with 
Bedouin  tribes,  which  compound  for  robbery  of  travellers  by 
amounts  agreed  upon ; or  as  instance  the  mountain  Bhils  of 
India,  whose  chiefs  have  “ seldom  much  revenue  except 
plunder,”  wTho  have  officers  “ to  obtain  information  of  unpro- 
tected villagers  and  travellers,”  and  who  claim  “ a duty  on 
goods  passing  their  hills  : ” apparently  a composition  accepted 
when  those  who  carry  the  goods  are  too  strong  to  be  robbed 
without  danger.  Where  the  protection  of  individuals  depends 
mainly  on  family-organizations  and  clan-organizations,  the 
subject  as  well  as  the  stranger,  undefended  when  away  from 
his  home,  similarly  becomes  liable  to  this  qualified  black 
mail.  Now  to  the  local  ruler,  now  to  the  central  ruler, 
according  to  their  respective  powers,  he  yields  up  part  of  his 
goods,  that  possession  of  the  rest  may  be  guaranteed  him, 
and  his  claims  on  buyers  enforced.  This  state  of  things  was 
illustrated  in  ancient  Mexico,  where  — 

“ Of  all  the  goods  which  were  brought  into  the  market,  a certain  portion 
was  paid  in  tribute  to  the  king,  who  was  on  his  part  obliged  to  do  justice 
to  the  merchants,  and  to  protect  their  property  and  their  persons.” 


REVENUE. 


565 


We  trace  tlie  like  in  the  records  of  early  European  peoples. 
Part  of  the  revenue  of  the  primitive  Greek  king,  consisted  of 
“ the  presents  paid  for  licences  to  trade  ” — presents  which 
in  all  probability  were  at  first  portions  of  the  commodities 
to  be  sold.  At  a later  period  in  Greece  there  obtained  a 
practice  that  had  doubtless  descended  from  this.  “To  these 
men  [magistrates  of  markets]  a certain  toll  or  tribute  was 
paid  by  all  those  who  brought  anything  to  sell  in  the  market.” 
In  western  Europe  indirect  taxation  had  a kindred  origin. 
The  trader,  at  the  mercy  of  the  ruler  whose  territory  he 
entered,  had  to  surrender  part  of  his  merchandise  in  con- 
sideration of  being  allowed  to  pass.  As  feudal  lords,  swoop- 
ing down  from  their  castles  on  merchants  passing  along 
neighbouring  roads  or  navigable  rivers,  took  by  force  portions 
of  what  they  had,  when  they  did  not  take  all;  so  their 
suzerains  laid  hands  on  what  they  pleased  of  cargoes  enter- 
ing their  ports  or  passing  their  frontiers:  their  shares 
gradually  becoming  defined  by  precedent.  In  England, 
though  there  is  no  clear  proof  that  the  two  tuns  which  the 
king  took  from  wine-laden  ships  (wine  being  then  the  chief 
import)  was  originally  an  unqualified  seizure ; yet,  since  this 
quantity  was  called  “the  king’s  prisage”  we  have  good 
reason  for  suspecting  that  it  was  so ; and  that  though,  after- 
wards, the  king’s  officer  gave  something  in  return,  this,  being 
at  his  option,  was  but  nominal.  The  very  name  “ customs,” 
eventually  applied  to  commuted  payments  on  imports,  points 
back  to  a preceding  time  when  this  yielding  up  of  portions 
of  cargoes  had  become  established  by  usage.  Confirmation 
of  this  inference  is  furnished  by  the  fact  that  internal  traders 
were  thus  dealt  with.  So  late  as  1309  it  was  complained 
“ that  the  officers  appointed  to  take  articles  for  the  king’s  use 
in  fairs  and  markets,  took  more  than  they  ought,  and  made 
a profit  of  the  surplus.” 

Speaking  generally  of  indirect  taxes,  we  may  say  that 
arising  when  the  power  of  the  ruler  becomes  sufficient  to 
change  gifts  into  exactions,  they  at  first  differ  from  other 


566 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


exactions  simply  in  this,  that  they  are  enforced  on  occasions 
when  the  subject  is  more  than  usually  at  the  ruler's  mercy ; 
either  because  he  is  exposing  commodities  for  sale  where 
they  can  be  easily  found  and  a share  taken ; or  because  he  is 
transferring  them  from  one  part  of  the  territory  to  another, 
and  can  be  readily  stopped  and  a portion  demanded ; or 
because  he  is  bringing  commodities  into  the  territory,  and 
can  have  them  laid  hands  on  at  one  of  the  few  places  of 
convenient  entrance.  The  shares  appropriated  by  the  ruler, 
originally  in  kind,  are  early  commuted  into  money  where 
the  commodities  are  such  as,  by  reason  of  quantity  or  dis- 
tance, he  cannot  consume : instance  the  load-penny  payable 
at  the  pit's  mouth  on  each  waggon-load  to  the  old-English 
kings.  And  the  claim  comes  to  be  similarly  commuted  in 
other  cases,  as  fast  as  increasing  trade  brings  a more  abundant 
circulating  medium,  and  a greater  quantity  of  produced  and 
imported  commodities ; the  demanded  portions  of  which  it 
becomes  more  difficult  to  transport  and  to  utilize. 

§ 546.  No  great  advantage  would  be  gained  by  here  going 
into  details.  The  foregoing  general  facts  appear  to  be  all  that 
it  is  needful  for  us  to  note. 

From  the  outset  the  growth  of  revenue  has,  like  that  growth 
of  the  political  headship  which  it  accompanies,  been  directly 
or  indirectly  a result  of  war.  The  property  of  conquered 
enemies,  at  first  goods,  cattle,  prisoners,  and  at  a later 
stage,  land,  coming  in  larger  share  to  the  leading  warrior, 
increases  his  predominance.  To  secure  his  good  will,  which 
it  is  now  important  to  do,  propitiatory  presents  and  help  in 
labour  are  given;  and  these,  as  his  power  further  grows, 
become  periodic  and  compulsory.  Making  him  more  despotic 
at  the  same  time  that  it  augments  his  kingdom,  continuance 
of  this  process  increases  his  ability  to  enforce  contribu- 
tions, alike  from  his  original  subjects  and  from  tributaries ; 
while  the  necessity  for  supplies,  now  to  defend  his  kingdom, 
now  to  invade  adjacent  kingdoms,  is  ever  made  the  plea  for 


REVENUE. 


567 


increasing  his  demands  of  established  kinds  and  for  making 
new  ones.  Under  stress  of  the  alleged  needs,  portions  of 
their  goods  are  taken  from  subjects  whenever  they  are  ex- 
posed to  view  for  purposes  of  exchange.  And  as  the  primitive 
presents  of  property  and  labour,  once  voluntary  and  variable, 
but  becoming  compulsory  and  periodic,  are  eventually  com- 
muted into  direct  taxes ; so  these  portions  of  the  trader’s 
goods  which  were  originally  given  for  permission  to  trade  and 
then  seized  as  of  right,  come  eventually  to  be  transformed 
into  percentages  of  value  paid  as  tolls  and  duties. 

But  to  the  last  as  at  first,  and  under  free  governments  as 
under  despotic  ones,  war  continues  to  be  the  usual  reason  for 
imposing  new  taxes  or  increasing  old  ones ; at  the  same  time 
that  the  coercive  organization  in  past  times  developed  by 
war,  continues  to  be  the  means  of  exacting  them. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


§ 547.  Preceding  chapters  have  prepared  the  way  for 
framing  conceptions  of  the  two  fundamentally-unlike  kinds 
of  political  organization,  proper  to  the  militant  life  and  the 
industrial  life,  respectively.  It  will  be  instructive  here  to 
arrange  in  coherent  order,  those  traits  of  the  militant  type 
already  incidentally  marked,  and  to  join  with  them  various 
dependent  traits;  and  in  the  next  chapter  to  deal  in  like 
manner  with  the  traits  of  the  industrial  type. 

During  social  evolution  there  has  habitually  been  a min- 
gling of  the  two.  But  we  shall  find  that,  alike  in  theory  and 
in  fact,  it  is  possible  to  trace  with  due  clearness  those  oppo- 
site characters  which  distinguish  them  in  their  respective 
complete  developments.  Especially  is  the  nature  of  the 
organization  which  accompanies  chronic  militancy,  capable  of 
being  inferred  a priori  and  proved  a posteriori  to  exist  in 
numerous  cases.  While  the  nature  of  the  organization 
accompanying  pure  industrialism,  of  which  at  present  we 
have  little  experience,  will  be  made  clear  by  contrast ; and 
such  illustrations  as  exist  of  progress  towards  it  will  become 
recognizable. 

Two  liabilities  to  error  must  be  guarded  against.  We  have 
to  deal  with  societies  compounded  and  re-compounded  in 
various  degrees ; and  we  have  to  deal  with  societies  which, 
differing  in  their  stages  of  culture,  have  their  structures 
elaborated  to  different  extents.  We  shall  be  misled,  there- 
fore, unless  our  comparisons  are  such  as  take  account  of  un- 
likenesses in  size  and  in  civilization.  Clearly,  characteristics 
of  the  militant  type  which  admit  of  being  displayed  by  a vast 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


569 


nation,  may  not  admit  of  being  displayed  by  a horde  of 
savages,  though  this  is  equally  militant.  Moreover,  as  insti- 
tutions take  long  to  acquire  their  finished  forms,  it  is  not  to 
be  expected  that  all  militant  societies  will  display  the 
organization  appropriate  to  them  in  its  completeness.  Eather 
may  we  expect  that  in  most  cases  it  will  be  incompletely 
displayed. 

In  face  of  these  difficulties  the  best  course  will  be  to  con- 
sider, first,  what  are  the  several  traits  which  of  necessity  mili- 
tancy tends  to  produce;  and  then  to  observe  how  far  these  traits 
are  conjointly  shown  in  past  and  present  nations  distinguished 
by  militancy.  Having  contemplated  the  society  ideally 
organized  for  war,  we  shall  be  prepared  to  recognize  in  real 
societies  the  characters  which  war  has  brought  about. 


§ 548.  For  preserving  its  corporate  life,  a society  is  im- 
pelled to  corporate  action ; and  the  preservation  of  its  cor- 
porate life  is  the  more  probable  in  proportion  as  its  corporate 
action  is  the  more  complete.  For  purposes  of  offence  and 
defence,  the  forces  of  individuals  have  to  be  combined ; and 
where  every  individual  contributes  his  force,  the  probability 
of  success  is  greatest.  Numbers,  natures,  and  circumstances 
being  equal,  it  is  clear  that  of  two  tribes  or  two  larger 
societies,  one  of  which  unites  the  actions  of  all  its  capable 
members  while  the  other  does  not,  the  first  will  ordinarily  be 
the  victor.  There  must  be  an  habitual  survival  of  commu- 
nities in  which  militant  cooperation  is  universal. 

This  proposition  is  almost  a truism.  But  it  is  needful  here, 
as  a preliminary,  consciously  to  recognize  the  truth  that  the 
social  structure  evolved  by  chronic  militancy,  is  one  in  which 
all  men  fit  for  fighting  act  in  concert  against  other  societies. 
Such  further  actions  as  they  carry  on  they  can  carry  on 
separately ; but  this  action  they  must  carry  on  jointly. 

§ 549.  A society’s  power  of  self-preservation  will  be  great 
in  proportion  as,  besides  the  direct  aid  of  all  who  can  fight, 


570 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


there  is  given  the  indirect  aid  of  all  who  cannot  fight.  Sup- 
posing them  otherwise  similar,  those  communities  will  sur- 
vive in  which  the  efforts  of  combatants  are  in  the  greatest 
degree  seconded  by  those  of  non-combatants.  In  a purely 
militant  society,  therefore,  individuals  who  do  not  bear  arms 
have  to  spend  their  lives  in  furthering  the  maintenance  of 
those  who  do.  Whether,  as  happens  at  first,  the  non-com- 
batants are  exclusively  the  women ; or  whether,  as  happens 
later,  the  class  includes  enslaved  captives;  or  whether,  as 
happens  later  still,  it  includes  serfs;  the  implication  is  the 
same.  For  if,  of  two  societies  equal  in  other  respects,  the 
first  wholly  subordinates  its  workers  in  this  way,  while  the 
workers  in  the  second  are  allowed  to  retain  for  themselves 
the  produce  of  their  labour,  or  more  of  it  than  is  needful  for 
maintaining  them  ; then,  in  the  second,  the  warriors,  not 
otherwise  supported,  or  supported  less  fully  than  they  might 
else  be,  will  have  partially  to  support  themselves,  and  will  be 
so  much  the  less  available  for  war  purposes.  Hence  in  the 
struggle  for  existence  between  such  societies,  it  must  usually 
happen  that  the  first  will  vanquish  the  second.  The  social 
type  produced  by  survival  of  the  fittest,  will  be  one  in  which 
the  fighting  part  includes  all  who  can  bear  arms  and  be 
trusted  with  arms,  while  the  remaining  part  serves  simply  as 
a permanent  commissariat. 

An  obvious  implication,  of  a significance  to  be  hereafter 
pointed  out,  is  that  the  non-combatant  part,  occupied  in  sup- 
porting the  combatant  part,  cannot  with  advantage  to  the 
self-preserving  power  of  the  society  increase  beyond  the  limit 
at  which  it  efficiently  fulfils  its  purpose.  For,  otherwise, 
some  who  might  be  fighters  are  superfluous  workers ; and  the 
fighting  power  of  the  society  is  made  less  than  it  might  be. 
Hence,  in  the  militant  type,  the  tendency  is  for  the  body  of 
warriors  to  bear  the  largest  practicable  ratio  to  the  body  of 
workers. 


§ 550.  Given  two  societies  of  which  the  members  are  all 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


571 


either  warriors  or  those  who  supply  the  needs  of  warriors, 
and,  other  things  equal,  supremacy  will  he  gained  by  that  in 
which  the  efforts  of  all  are  most  effectually  combined.  In 
open  warfare  joint  action  triumphs  over  individual  action. 
Military  history  is  a history  of  the  successes  of  men  trained 
to  move  and  fight  in  concert. 

Not  only  must  there  be  in  the  fighting  part  a combination 
such  that  the  powers  of  its  units  may  be  concentrated,  but 
there  must  be  a combination  of  the  subservient  part  with  it. 
If  the  two  are  so  separated  that  they  can  act  independently, 
the  needs  of  the  fighting  part  will  not  be  adequately  met.  If 
to  be  cut  off  from  a temporary  base  of  operations  is  danger- 
ous, still  more  dangerous  is  it  to  be  cut  off  from  the  per- 
manent base  of  operations ; namely,  that  constituted  by  the 
body  of  non-combatants.  This  has  to  be  so  connected  with  the 
body  of  combatants  that  its  services  may  be  fully  available.  Evi- 
dently, therefore,  development  of  the  militant  type  involves  a 
close  binding  of  the  society  into  a whole.  As  the  loose  group 
of  savages  yields  to  the  solid  phalanx,  so,  other  things  equal, 
must  the  society  of  which  the  parts  are  but  feebly  held 
together,  yield  to  one  in  which  they  are  held  together  by 
strong  bonds. 

§ 551.  But  in  proportion  as  men  are  compelled  to  co- 
operate, their  self-prompted  actions  are  restrained.  By  as 
much  as  the  unit  becomes  merged  in  the  mass,  by  so  much 
does  he  lose  his  individuality  as  a unit.  And  this  leads  us 
to  note  the  several  ways  in  which  evolution  of  the  militant 
type  entails  subordination  of  the  citizen. 

His  life  is  not  his  own,  but  is  at  the  disposal  of  his  society. 
So  long  as  he  remains  capable  of  bearing  arms  lie  has  no 
alternative  but  to  fight  when  called  on ; and,  where  militancy 
is  extreme,  he  cannot  return  as  a vanquished  man  under 
penalty  of  death. 

Of  course,  with  this  there  goes  possession  of  such  liberty 
only  as  military  obligations  allow.  He  is  free  to  pursue  his 


572 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


private  ends  only  when  the  tribe  or  nation  has  no  need  of 
him ; and  when  it  has  need  of  him,  his  actions  from  hour  to 
hour  must  conform,  not  to  his  own  will  but  to  the  public 
will. 

So,  too,  with  his  property.  Whether,  as  in  many  cases, 
what  he  holds  as  private  he  so  holds  by  permission  only,  or 
whether  private  ownership  is  recognized,  it  remains  true  that 
in  the  last  resort  he  is  obliged  to  surrender  whatever  is 
demanded  for  the  community’s  use. 

Briefly,  then,  under  the  militant  type  the  individual  is 
owned  by  the  State.  While  preservation  of  the  society  is  the 
primary  end,  preservation  of  each  member  is  a secondary  end 
—an  end  cared  for  chiefly  as  subserving  the  primary  end. 

§ 552.  Fulfilment  of  these  requirements,  that  there  shall 
be  complete  corporate  action,  that  to  this  end  the  non-com- 
batant part  shall  be  occupied  in  providing  for  the  combatant 
part,  that  the  entire  aggregate  shall  be  strongly  bound 
together,  and  that  the  units  composing  it  must  have  their 
individualities  in  life,  liberty,  and  property,  thereby  sub- 
ordinated, presupposes  a coercive  instrumentality.  No  such 
union  for  corporate  action  can  be  achieved  without  a power- 
ful controlling  agency.  On  remembering  the  fatal  results 
caused  by  division  of  counsels  in  war,  or  by  separation  into 
factions  in  face  of  an  enemy,  we  see  that  chronic  militancy 
tends  to  develop  a despotism ; since,  other  things  equal,  those 
societies  will  habitually  survive  in  which,  by  its  aid,  the 
corporate  action  is  made  complete. 

And  this  involves  a system  of  centralization.  The  trait 
made  familiar  to  us  by  an  army,  in  which,  under  a com- 
mander-in-chief  there  are  secondary  commanders  over  large 
masses,  and  under  these  tertiary  ones  over  smaller  masses, 
and  so  on  down  to  the  ultimate  divisions,  must  characterize 
the  social  organization  at  large.  A militant  society  requires 
a regulative  structure  of  this  kind,  since,  otherwise,  its 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


573 


corporate  action  cannot  be  made  most  effectual.  Without 
such  grades  of  governing  centres  diffused  throughout  the  non- 
combatant  part  as  well  as  the  combatant  part,  the  entire 
forces  of  the  aggregate  cannot  be  promptly  put  forth.  Unless 
the  workers  are  under  a control  akin  to  that  which  the 
fighters  are  under,  their  indirect  aid  cannot  be  insured  in  full 
amount  and  with  due  quickness. 

And  this  is  the  form  of  a society  characterized  by  status — 
a society,  the  members  of  which  stand  one  towards  another  in 
successive  grades  of  subordination.  From  the  despot  down 
to  the  slave,  all  are  masters  of  those  below  and  subjects  of 
those  above.  The  relation  of  the  child  to  the  father,  of  the 
father  to  some  superior,  and  so  on  up  to  the  absolute  head,  is 
one  in  which  the  individual  of  lower  status  is  at  the  mercy 
of  one  of  higher  status. 

§ 553.  Otherwise  described,  the  process  of  militant  organi- 
zation is  a process  of  regimentation,  which,  primarily  taking 
place  in  the  army,  secondarily  affects  the  whole  com- 
munity. 

The  first  indication  of  this  we  trace  in  the  fact  everywhere 
visible,  that  the  military  head  grows  into  a civil  head — 
usually  at  once,  and,  in  exceptional  cases,  at  last,  if  militancy 
continues.  Beginning  as  leader  in  war  he  becomes  ruler  in 
peace ; and  such  regulative  policy  as  he  pursues  in  the  one 
sphere,  he  pursues,  so  far  as  conditions  permit,  in  the  other. 
Being,  as  the  non-combatant  part  is,  a permanent  commis- 
sariat, the  principle  of  graduated  subordination  is  extended 
to  it.  Its  members  come  to  be  directed  in  a way  like  that  in 
which  the  warriors  are  directed — not  literally,  since  by  dis- 
persion of  the  one  and  concentration  of  the  other  exact  paral- 
lelism is  prevented ; but,  nevertheless,  similarly  in  principle. 
Labour  is  carried  on  under  coercion ; and  supervision  spreads 
everywhere. 

To  suppose  that  a despotic  military  head,  daily  maintain- 


574 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


ing  regimental  control  in  conformity  with  inherited  traditions, 
will  not  impose  on  the  producing  classes  a kindred  control,  is 
to  suppose  in  him  sentiments  and  ideas  entirely  foreign  to  his 
circumstances. 

§ 554.  The  nature  of  the  militant  form  of  government  will 
be  further  elucidated  on  observing  that  it  is  both  positively 
regulative  and  negatively  regulative.  It  does  not  simply 
restrain ; it  also  enforces.  Besides  telling  the  individual 
what  he  shall  not  do,  it  tells  him  what  he  shall  do. 

That  the  government  of  an  army  is  thus  characterised 
needs  no  showing.  Indeed,  commands  of  the  positive  kind 
given  to  the  soldier  are  more  important  than  those  of  the 
negative  kind : fighting  is  done  under  the  one,  while  order  is 
maintained  under  the  other.  But  here  it  chiefly  concerns  us 
to  note  that  not  only  the  control  of  military  life  but  also  the 
control  of  civil  life,  is,  under  the  militant  type  of  govern- 
ment, thus  characterized.  There  are  two  ways  in  which  the 
ruling  power  may  deal  with  the  private  individual.  It  may 
simply  limit  his  activities  to  those  which  he  can  carry  on 
without  aggression,  direct  or  indirect,  upon  others ; in  which 
case  its  action  is  negatively  regulative.  Or,  besides  doing 
this,  it  may  prescribe  the  how,  and  the  where,  and  the  when, 
of  his  activities — may  force  him  to  do  things  which  he  would 
not  spontaneously  do — may  direct  in  greater  or  less  detail  his 
mode  of  living  ; in  which  case  its  action  is  positively  regula- 
tive. Under  the  militant  type  this  positively  regulative 
action  is  widespread  and  peremptory.  The  civilian  is  in  a 
condition  as  much  like  that  of  the  soldier  as  difference  of 
occupation  permits. 

And  this  is  another  way  of  expressing  the  truth  that  the 
fundamental  principle  of  the  militant  type  is  compulsory  co- 
operation. While  this  is  obviously  the  principle  on  which 
the  members  of  the  combatant  body  act,  it  no  less  certainly 
must  be  the  principle  acted  on  throughout  the  non-combatant 
body,  if  military  efficiency  is  to  be  great;  since,  otherwise. 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY.  575 

the  aid  which  the  non-combatant  body  has  to  furnish  cannot 
be  insured. 

§ 555.  That  binding  together  by  which  the  units  of  a 
militant  society  are  made  into  an  efficient  fighting  structure, 
tends  to  fix  the  position  of  each  in  rank,  in  occupation,  and 
in  locality. 

In  a graduated  regulative  organization  there  is  resistance 
to  change  from  a lower  to  a higher  grade.  Such  change  is 
made  difficult  by  lack  of  the  possessions  needed  for  filling 
superior  positions  ; and  it  is  made  difficult  by  the  opposition 
of  those  who  already  fill  them,  and  can  hold  inferiors  down. 
Preventing  intrusion  from  below,  these  transmit  their  respec- 
tive places  and  ranks  to  their  descendants ; and  as  the 
principle  of  inheritance  becomes  settled,  the  rigidity  of  the 
social  structure  becomes  decided.  Only  where  an  “egali- 
tarian despotism  ” reduces  all  subjects  to  the  same  political 
status — a condition  of  decay  rather  than  of  development — 
does  the  converse  state  arise. 

The  principle  of  inheritance,  becoming  established  in 
respect  of  the  classes  which  militancy  originates,  and  fixing 
the  general  functions  of  their  members  from  generation  to 
generation,  tends  eventually  to  fix  also  their  special  functions. 
Not  only  do  men  of  the  slave-classes  and  the  artizan-classes 
succeed  to  their  respective  ranks,  but  they  succeed  to  the 
particular  occupations  carried  on  in  them.  This,  which  is  a 
result  of  the  tendency  towards  regimentation,  is  ascribable 
primarily  to  the  fact  that  a superior,  requiring  from  each  kind 
of  worker  his  particular  product,  has  an  interest  in  replacing 
him  at  death  by  a capable  successor ; while  the  worker, 
prompted  to  get  aid  in  executing  his  tasks,  has  an  interest 
in  bringing  up  a son  to  his  own  occupation : the  will  of  the 
son  being  powerless  against  these  conspiring  interests.  Under 
the  system  of  compulsory  cooperation,  therefore,  the  prin- 
ciple of  inheritance,  spreading  through  the  producing  organi- 
zation, causes  a relative  rigidity  in  this  also. 


576 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


A kindred  effect  is  shown  in  the  entailed  restraints  on 
movement  from  place  to  place.  In  proportion  as  the  indi- 
vidual is  subordinated  in  life,  liberty,  and  property,  to  his 
society,  it  is  needful  that  his  whereabouts  shall  be  constantly 
known.  Obviously  the  relation  of  the  soldier  to  his  officer, 
and  of  this  officer  to  his  superior,  is  such  that  each  must  be 
ever  at  hand ; and  where  the  militant  type  is  fully  developed 
the  like  holds  throughout  the  society.  The  slave  cannot 
leave  his  appointed  abode ; the  serf  is  tied  to  his  allotment ; 
the  master  is  not  allowed  to  absent  himself  from  his  locality 
without  leave. 

So  that  the  corporate  action,  the  combination,  the  cohesion, 
the  regimentation,  which  efficient  militancy  necessitates, 
imply  a structure  which  strongly  resists  change. 

§ 556.  A further  trait  of  the  militant  type,  naturally 
accompanying  the  last,  is  that  organizations  other  than  those 
forming  parts  of  the  State-organization,  are  wholly  or  par- 
tially repressed.  The  public  combination  occupying  all  fields, 
excludes  private  combinations. 

For  the  achievement  of  complete  corporate  action  there 
must,  as  we  have  seen,  be  a centralized  administration,  not 
only  throughout  the  combatant  part  but  throughout  the  non- 
combatant  part ; and  if  there  exist  unions  of  citizens  which 
act  independently,  they  in  so  far  diminish  the  range  of  this 
centralized  administration.  Any  structures  which  are  not 
portions  of  the  State-structure,  serve  more  or  less  as  limita- 
tions to  it,  and  stand  in  the  way  of  the  required  unlimited 
subordination.  If  private  combinations  are  allowed  to  exist, 
it  will  be  on  condition  of  submitting  to  an  official  regulation 
such  as  greatly  restrains  independent  action ; and  since 
private  combinations  officially  regulated  are  inevitably  hin- 
dered from  doing  things  not  conforming  to  established 
routine,  and  are  thus  debarred  from  improvement,  they  cannot 
habitually  thrive  and  grow.  Obviously,  indeed,  such  com- 
binations, based  on  the  principle  of  voluntary  cooperation, 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


577 


are  incongruous  with  social  arrangements  based  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  compulsory  cooperation.  Hence  the  militant  type 
is  characterized  by  the  absence,  or  comparative  rarity,  of 
bodies  of  citizens  associated  for  commercial  purposes,  for 
propagating  special  religious  views,  for  achieving  philan- 
thropic ends,  &c. 

Private  combinations  of  one  kind,  however,  are  congruous 
with  the  militant  type — the  combinations,  namely,  which  are 
formed  for  minor  defensive  or  offensive  purposes.  We  have, 
as  examples,  those  which  constitute  factions,  very  general  in 
militant  societies  ; those  which  belong  to  the  same  class  as 
primitive  guilds,  serving  for  mutual  protection  ; and  those 
which  take  the  shape  of  secret  societies.  Of  such  bodies  it 
may  be  noted  that  they  fulfil  on  a small  scale  ends  like  those 
which  the  whole  society  fulfils  on  a large  scale — the  ends  of 
self-preservation,  or  aggression,  or  both.  And  it  may  be 
further  noted  that  these  small  included  societies  are  organized 
on  the  same  principle  as  the  large  including  society — the 
principle  of  compulsory  cooperation.  Their  governments  are 
coercive : in  some  cases  even  to  the  extent  of  killing  those  of 
their  members  who  are  disobedient. 

§ 557.  A remaining  fact  to  be  set  down  is  that  a society 
of  the  militant  type  tends  to  evolve  a self-sufficient  sustain- 
ing organization.  With  its  political  autonomy  there  goes 
what  we  may  call  an  economic  autonomy.  Evidently  if  it 
carries  on  frequent  wars  against  surrounding  societies,  its 
commercial  intercourse  with  them  must  be  hindered  or  pre- 
vented : exchange  of  commodities  can  go  on  to  but  a small 
extent  between  those  who  are  continually  fighting.  A mili- 
tant society  must,  therefore,  to  the  greatest  degree  practicable, 
provide  internally  the  supplies  of  all  articles  needful  for 
carrying  on  the  lives  of  its  members.  Such  an  economic 
state  as  that  which  existed  during  early  feudal  times,  when, 
as  in  France,  “ the  castles  made  almost  all  the  articles  used 
in  them,”  is  a state  evidently  entailed  on  groups,  small  or 


578 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


large,  wliicli  are  in  constant  antagonism  with  surrounding 
groups.  If  there  does  not  already  exist  within  any  group  so 
circumstanced,  an  agency  for  producing  some  necessary 
article,  inability  to  obtain  it  from  without  will  lead  to  the 
establishment  of  an  agency  for  obtaining  it  within. 

Whence  it  follows  that  the  desire  “ not  to  be  dependent  on 
foreigners  ” is  one  appropriate  to  the  militant  type  of  society. 
So  long  as  there  is  constant  danger  that  the  supplies  of 
needful  things  derived  from  other  countries  will  be  cut  off  by 
the  breaking  out  of  hostilities,  it  is  imperative  that  there 
shall  be  maintained  a power  of  producing  these  supplies  at 
home,  and  that  to  this  end  the  required  structures  shall  be 
maintained.  Hence  there  is  a manifest  direct  relation 
between  militant  activities  and  a protectionist  policy. 

§ 558.  And  now  having  observed  the  traits  which  may  be 
expected  to  establish  themselves  by  survival  of  the  fittest 
during  the  struggle  for  existence  among  societies,  let  us 
observe  how  these  traits  are  displayed  in  actual  societies, 
similar  in  respect  of  their  militancy  but  otherwise  dissimilar. 

Of  course  in  small  primitive  groups,  however  warlike  they 
may  be,  we  must  not  look  for  more  than  rude  outlines  of  the 
structure  proper  to  the  militant  type.  Being  loosely  aggre- 
gated, definite  arrangement  of  their  parts  can  be  carried  but 
to  a small  extent.  Still,  so  far  as  it  goes,  the  evidence  is  to 
the  point.  The  fact  that  habitually  the  fighting  body  is  co- 
extensive with  the  adult  male  population,  is  so  familiar  that 
no  illustrations  are  needed.  An  equally  familiar  fact  is  that 
the  women,  occupying  a servile  position,  do  all  the  unskilled 
labour  and  bear  the  burdens ; with  which  may  be  joined  the 
fact  that  not  unfrequently  during  war  they  carry  the  supplies, 
as  in  Asia  among  the  Bhils  and  Khonds,  as  in  Polynesia 
among  the  New  Caledonians  and  Sandwich  Islanders,  as  in 
America  among  the  Comanches,  Mundrucus,  Patagonians  : 
their  office  as  forming  the  permanent  commissariat  being  thus 
clearly  shown.  We  see,  too,  that  where  the  enslaving  of 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


579 


captives  has  arisen,  these  also  serve  to  support  and  aid  the 
combatant  class  ; acting  during  peace  as  producers  and  during 
war  joining  the  women  in  attendance  on  the  army,  as  among 
the  New  Zealanders,  or,  as  among  the  Malagasy,  being  then 
exclusively  the  carriers  of  provisions,  &c.  Again,  in  these 
first  stages,  as  in  later  stages,  we  are  shown  that  private 
claims  are,  in  the  militant  type,  over-ridden  by  public  claims. 
The  life  of  each  man  is  held  subject  to  the  needs  of  the 
group ; and,  by  implication,  his  freedom  of  action  is  similarly 
held.  So,  too,  with  his  goods  ; as  instance  the  remark  made 
of  the  Brazilian  Indians,  that  personal  property,  recognized 
but  to  a limited  extent  during  peace,  is  scarcely  at  all  recog- 
nized during  war ; and  as  instance  Hearne’s  statement  con- 
cerning certain  hyperborean  tribes  of  North  America  when 
about  to  make  war,  that  “ property  of  every  kind  that  could 
be  of  general  use  now  ceased  to  be  private.”  To  which  add 
the  cardinal  truth,  once  more  to  be  repeated,  that  where  no 
political  subordination  exists  war  initiates  it.  Tacitly  or 
overtly  a chief  is  temporarily  acknowledged ; and  he  gains 
permanent  power  if  war  continues.  From  these  beginnings 
of  the  militant  type  which  small  groups  show  us,  let  us  pass 
to  its  developed  forms  as  shown  in  larger  groups. 

“ The  army,  or  what  is  nearly  synonymous,  the  nation  of 
Dahome,”  to  quote  Burton’s  words,  furnishes  us  with  a good 
example  : the  excessive  militancy  being  indicated  by  the  fact 
that  the  royal  bedroom  is  paved  with  skulls  of  enemies. 
Here  the  king  is  absolute,  and  is  regarded  as  supernatural  in 
character — he  is  the  “ spirit and  of  course  he  is  the  religious 
head — he  ordains  the  priests.  He  absorbs  in  himself  all 
powers  and  all  rights  : “ by  the  state-law  of  Dahome  ...  all 
men  are  slaves  to  the  king.”  He  “ is  heir  to  all  his  subjects;” 
and  he  takes  from  living  subjects  whatever  he  likes.  When 
we  add  that  there  is  a frequent  killing  of  victims  to  carry 
messages  to  the  other  world,  as  well  as  occasions  on  which 
numbers  are  sacrificed  to  supply  deceased  kings  with  attend- 
ants, we  are  shown  that  life,  liberty,  and  property,  are  at  the 


580 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


entire  disposal  of  the  State  as  represented  by  its  head.  In 
both  the  civil  and  military  organizations,  the  centres  and  sub- 
centres of  control  are  numerous.  Names,  very  generally 
given  by  the  king  and  replacing  surnames,  change  “with 
every  rank  of  the  holder;”  and  so  detailed  is  the  regimenta- 
tion that  “the  dignities  seem  interminable.”  There  are 
numerous  sumptuary  laws ; and,  according  to  Waitz,  no  one 
wears  any  other  clothing  or  weapons  than  what  the  king  gives 
him  or  allows  him.  Under  penalty  of  slavery  or  death,  “ no 
man  must  alter  the  construction  of  his  house,  sit  upon  a chair, 
or  be  carried  on  a hammock,  or  drink  out  of  a glass,”  without 
permission  of  the  king. 

The  ancient  Peruvian  empire,  gradually  established  by  the 
conquering  Yncas,  may  next  be  instanced.  Here  the  ruler, 
divinely  descended,  sacred,  absolute,  was  the  centre  of  a 
system  which  minutely  controlled  all  life.  His  headship  was 
at  once  military,  political,  ecclesiastical,  judicial;  and  the 
entire  nation  was  composed  of  those  who,  in  the  capacity  of 
soldiers,  labourers,  and  officials,  were  slaves  to  him  and  his 
deified  ancestors.  Military  service  was  obligatory  on  all 
taxable  Indians  who  were  capable ; and  those  of  them  who 
had  served  their  prescribed  terms,  formed  into  reserves,  had 
then  to  work  under  State-superintendence.  The  army  having 
heads  over  groups  of  ten,  fifty,  a hundred,  five  hundred,  a 
thousand,  ten  thousand,  had,  besides  these,  its  superior  com- 
manders of  Ynca  blood.  The  community  at  large  was  subject 
to  a parallel  regimentation : the  inhabitants  registered  in 
groups,  being  under  the  control  of  officers  over  tens,  fifties, 
hundreds,  and  so  on.  And  through  these  successive  grades 
of  centres,  reports  ascended  to  the  Ynca-governors  of  great 
divisions,  passing  on  from  them  to  the  Ynca;  while  his  orders 
descended  “ from  rank  to  rank  till  they  reached  the  lowest.” 
There  was  an  ecclesiastical  organization  similarly  elaborate, 
having,  for  example,  five  classes  of  diviners ; and  there  was 
an  organization  of  spies  to  examine  and  report  upon  the 
doings  of  the  other  officers.  Everything  was  under  public 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


581 


inspection.  There  were  village-officers  who  overlooked  the 
ploughing,  sowing,  and  harvesting.  When  there  was  a defi- 
ciency of  rain,  measured  quantities  of  water  were  supplied 
by  the  State.  All  who  travelled  without  authority  were 
punished  as  vagabonds ; but  for  those  who  were  authorized 
to  travel  for  public  purposes,  there  were  establishments  sup- 
plying lodging  and  necessaries.  “ It  was  the  duty  of  the 
decurions  to  see  that  the  people  were  clothed and  the  kinds 
of  cloth,  decorations,  badges,  &c.,  to  be  worn  by  the  different 
ranks  were  prescribed.  Besides  this  regulation  of  external 
life  there  was  regulation  of  domestic  life.  The  people  were 
required  to  “ dine  and  sup  with  open  doors,  that  the  judges 
might  be  able  to  enter  freely;”  and  these  judges  had  to  see 
that  the  house,  clothes,  furniture,  &c.,  were  kept  clean  and  in 
order,  and  the  children  properly  disciplined : those  who  mis- 
managed their  houses  being  flogged.  Subject  to  this  minute 
control,  the  people  laboured  to  support  this  elaborate  State- 
organization.  The  political,  religious,  and  military  classes 
were  exempt  from  tribute  ; while  the  labouring  classes  when 
not  serving  in  the  army,  had  to  yield  up  all  produce  beyond 
that  required  for  their  bare  sustenance.  Of  the  whole  empire, 
one-third  was  allotted  for  supporting  the  State,  one-third  for 
supporting  the  priesthood  who  ministered  to  the  manes  of 
ancestors,  and  the  remaining  third  had  to  support  the  workers. 
Besides  giving  tribute  by  tilling  the  lands  of  the  Sun  and  the 
King,  the  workers  had  to  till  the  lands  of  the  soldiers  on  duty, 
as  well  as  those  of  incapables.  And  they  also  had  to  pay 
tribute  of  clothes,  shoes,  and  arms.  Of  the  lands  on  which  the 
people  maintained  themselves,  a tract  was  apportioned  to 
each  man  according  to  the  size  of  his  family.  Similarly  with 
the  produce  of  the  flocks.  Such  moiety  of  this  in  each  dis- 
trict as  was  not  required  for  supplying  public  needs,  was 
periodically  shorn,  and  the  wool  divided  by  officials.  These 
arrangements  were  in  pursuance  of  the  principle  that  “ the 
private  property  of  each  man  was  held  by  favour  of  the  Ynca, 
and  according  to  their  laws  he  had  no  other  title  to  it.”  Thus 


582 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  people,  completely  possessed  by  the  State  in  person,  pro- 
perty, and  labour,  transplanted  to  this  or  that  locality  as  the 
Ynca  directed,  and,  when  not  serving  as  soldiers,  living  under 
a discipline  like  that  within  the  army,  were  units  in  a cen- 
tralized regimented  machine,  moved  throughout  life  to  the 
greatest  practicable  extent  by  the  Ynca’s  will,  and  to  the 
least  practicable  extent  by  their  own  wills.  And,  naturally, 
along  with  militant  organization  thus  carried  to  its  ideal 
limit,  there  went  an  almost  entire  absence  of  any  other 
organization.  They  had  no  money;  “they  neither  sold 
clothes,  nor  houses,  nor  estates and  trade  was  represented 
among  them  by  scarcely  anything  more  than  some  bartering 
of  articles  of  food. 

So  far  as  accounts  of  it  show,  ancient  Egypt  presented 
phenomena  allied  in  their  general,  if  not  in  their  special,  cha- 
racters. Its  predominant  militancy  during  remote  unrecorded 
times,  is  sufficiently  implied  by  the  vast  population  of  slaves 
who  toiled  to  build  the  pyramids  ; and  its  subsequent  con- 
tinued militancy  we  are  shown  alike  by  the  boasting  records 
of  its  kings,  and  the  delineations  of  their  triumphs  on  its 
temple-walls.  Along  with  this  form  of  activity  we  have,  as 
before,  the  god-descended  ruler,  limited  in  his  powers  only  by 
the  usages  transmitted  from  his  divine  ancestors,  who  was  at 
once  political  head,  high-priest,  and  commander-in-chief. 
Under  him  was  a centralized  organization,  of  which  the  civil 
part  was  arranged  in  classes  and  sub-classes  as  definite  as 
were  those  of  the  militant  part.  Of  the  four  great  social  divi- 
sions— priests,  soldiers,  traders,  and  common  people,  beneath 
whom  came  the  slaves — the  first  contained  more  than  a score 
different  orders ; the  second,  some  half-dozen  beyond  those 
constituted  by  military  grades  ; the  third,  nearly  a dozen ; and 
the  fourth,  a still  greater  number.  Though  within  the  ruling 
classes  the  castes  were  not  so  rigorously  defined  as  to  prevent 
change  of  function  in  successive  generations,  yet  Herodotus 
and  Diodorus  state  that  industrial  occupations  descended 
from  father  to  son  : “ every  particular  trade  and  manufacture 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


583 


was  carried  on  by  its  own  craftsmen,  and  none  changed  from 
one  trade  to  another.”  How  elaborate  was  the  regimentation 
may  be  judged  from  the  detailed  account  of  the  staff  of 
officers  and  workers  engaged  in  one  of  their  vast  quarries  : 
the  numbers  and  kinds  of  functionaries  paralleling  those  of 
an  army.  To  support  this  highly-developed  regulative  organi- 
zation, civil,  military,  and  sacerdotal  (an  organization  which 
held  exclusive  possession  of  the  land)  the  lower  classes 
laboured.  “ Overseers  were  set  over  the  wretched  people, 
who  were  urged  to  hard  work  more  by  the  punishment  of  the 
stick  than  words  of  warning.”  And  whether  or  not  official 
oversight  included  domiciliary  visits,  it  at  any  rate  went  to 
the  extent  of  taking  note  of  each  family.  “ Every  man  was 
required  under  pain  of  death  to  give  an  account  to  the  magis- 
trate of  how  he  earned  his  livelihood.” 

Take,  now,  another  ancient  society,  which,  strongly  con- 
trasted in  sundry  respects,  shows  us,  along  with  habitual  mili- 
tancy, the  assumption  of  structural  traits  allied  in  their 
fundamental  characters  to  those  thus  far  observed.  I refer 
to  Sparta.  That  warfare  did  not  among  the  Spartans  evolve 
a single  despotic  head,  while  in  part  due  to  causes  which,  as 
before  shown,  favour  the  development  of  compound  political 
heads,  was  largely  due  to  the  accident  of  their  double  king- 
ship  : the  presence  of  two  divinely-descended  chiefs  pre- 
vented the  concentration  of  power.  But  though  from  this 
cause  there  continued  an  imperfectly  centralized  government, 
the  relation  of  this  government  to  members  of  the  community 
was  substantially  like  that  of  militant  governments  in  general. 
Not  withstanding  the  serfdom,  and  in  towns  the  slavery,  of 
the  Helots,  and  notwithstanding  the  political  subordination 
of  the  Periceki,  they  all,  in  common  with  the  Spartans  proper, 
were  under  obligation  to  military  service : the  working  func- 
tion of  the  first,  and  the  trading  function,  so  far  as  it  existed, 
which  was  carried  on  by  the  second,  were  subordinate  to  the 
militant  function,  with  which  the  third  was  exclusively  occu- 
pied. And  the  civil  divisions  thus  marked  re-appeared  in 


584 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  military  divisions  : “ at  the  battle  of  Platea  every  Spartan 
hoplite  had  seven  Helots,  and  every  Perioeki  hoplite  one  Helot 
to  attend  him.”  The  extent  to  which,  by  the  daily  military 
discipline,  prescribed  military  mess,  and  fixed  contributions  of 
food,  the  individual  life  of  the  Spartan  was  subordinated  to 
public  demands,  from  seven  years  upwards,  needs  mention 
only  to  show  the  rigidity  of  the  restraints  which  here,  as 
elsewhere,  the  militant  type  imposes — restraints  which  were 
further  shown  in  the  prescribed  age  for  marriage,  the  preven- 
tion of  domestic  life,  the  forbidding  of  industry  or  any  money- 
seeking occupation,  the  interdict  on  going  abroad  without 
leave,  and  the  authorized  censorship  under  which  his  days 
and  nights  were  passed.  There  was  fully  carried  out  in  Sparta 
the  Greek  theory  of  society,  that  “ the  citizen  belongs  neither 
to  himself  nor  to  his  family,  but  to  his  city.”  So  that  though 
in  this  exceptional  case,  chronic  militancy  was  prevented 
from  developing  a supreme  head,  owning  the  individual  citizen 
in  body  and  estate,  yet  it  developed  an  essentially  identical 
relation  between  the  community  as  a whole  and  its  units. 
The  community,  exercising  its  power  through  a compound 
head  instead  of  through  a simple  head,  completely  enslaved 
the  individual.  While  the  lives  and  labours  of  the  Helots 
were  devoted  exclusively  to  the  support  of  those  who  formed 
the  military  organization,  the  lives  and  labours  of  those  who 
formed  the  military  organization  were  exclusively  devoted  to 
the  service  of  the  State : they  were  slaves  with  a difference. 

Of  modern  illustrations,  that  furnished  by  Eussia  will 
suffice.  Here,  again,  with  the  wars  which  effected  conquests 
and  consolidations,  came  the  development  of  the  victorious 
commander  into  the  absolute  ruler,  who,  if  not  divine  by 
alleged  origin,  yet  acquired  something  like  divine  'prestige. 
“ All  men  are  equal  before  God,  and  the  Prussians’  God  is  the 
Emperor,”  says  De  Custine:  “the  supreme  governor  is  so  raised 
above  earth,  that  he  sees  no  difference  between  the  serf  and  the 
lord.”  Under  the  stress  of  Peter  the  Great's  wars,  which,  as 
the  nobles  complained,  took  them  away  from  their  homes,  “not. 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


585 


as  formerly,  for  a single  campaign,  but  for  long  years,”  they 
became  “ servants  of  the  State,  without  privileges,  without 
dignity,  subjected  to  corporal  punishment,  and  burdened  with 
onerous  duties  from  which  there  was  no  escape.”  “Any 
noble  who  refused  to  serve  ['the  State  in  the  Army,  the 
Fleet,  or  the  Civil  Administration,  from  boyhood  to  old  age/] 
was  not  only  deprived  of  his  estate,  as  in  the  old  times,  but 
was  declared  to  be  a traitor,  and  might  be  condemned  to 
capital  punishment.”  “ Under  Peter,”  says  Wallace,  “ all 
offices,  civil  and  military,”  were  “ arranged  in  fourteen  classes 
or  ranks and  he  “ defined  the  obligations  of  each  with 
microscopic  minuteness.  After  his  death  the  work  was 
carried  on  in  the  same  spirit,  and  the  tendency  reached  its 
climax  in  the  reign  of  Nicholas.”  In  the  words  of  De  Custine, 
“ the  tchinn  [the  name  for  this  organization]  is  a nation 
formed  into  a regiment ; it  is  the  military  system  applied  to 
all  classes  of  society,  even  to  those  who  never  go  to  war.” 
With  this  universal  regimentation  in  structure  went  a regi- 
mental discipline.  The  conduct  of  life  was  dictated  to  the 
citizens  at  large  in  the  same  way  as  to  soldiers.  In  the  reign 
of  Peter  and  his  successors,  domestic  entertainments  were 
appointed  and  regulated ; the  people  were  compelled  to  change 
their  costumes  ; the  clergy  to  cut  off  their  beards ; and  even 
the  harnessing  of  horses  was  according  to  pattern.  Occupa- 
tions were  controlled  to  the  extent  that  “ no  boyard  could 
enter  any  profession,  or  forsake  it  when  embraced,  or  retire 
from  public  to  private  life,  or  dispose  of  his  property,  or  travel 
into  any  foreign  country,  without  the  permission  of  the  Czar.” 
This  omnipresent  rule  is  well  expressed  in  the  close  of 
certain  rhymes,  for  which  a military  officer  was  sent  to 
Siberia : — 

“ Tout  se  fait  par  ukase  ici ; 

C’est  par  ukase  que  1’on  voyage, 

C’est  par  ukase  que  l’on  rit.” 

Taking  thus  the  existing  barbarous  society  of  Dahomey, 
formed  of  negroes,  the  extinct  semi-civilized  empire  of  the 


586 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Yncas,  whose  subjects  were  remote  in  blood  from  these,  the 
ancient  Egyptian  empire  peopled  by  yet  other  races,  the 
community  of  the  Spartans,  again  unlike  in  the  type  of  its 
men,  and  the  existing  Russian  nation  made  up  of  Slavs  and 
Tatars,  we  have  before  us  cases  in  which  such  similarities  of 
social  structure  as  exist,  cannot  be  ascribed  to  inheritance  of 
a common  character  by  the  social  units.  The  immense 
contrasts  between  the  populations  of  these  several  societies, 
too,  varying  from  millions  at  the  one  extreme  to  thousands  at 
the  other,  negative  the  supposition  that  their  common  struc- 
tural traits  are  consequent  on  size.  Nor  can  it  be  supposed 
that  likenesses  of  conditions  in  respect  of  climate,  surface, 
soil,  flora,  fauna,  or  likenesses  of  habits  caused  by  such  con- 
ditions, can  have  had  anything  to  do  with  the  likenesses  of 
organization  in  these  societies ; for  their  respective  habitats 
present  numerous  marked  unlikenesses.  Such  traits  as  they 
one  and  all  exhibit,  not  ascribable  to  any  other  cause,  must 
thus  be  ascribed  to  the  habitual  militancy  characteristic  of 
them  all.  The  results  of  induction  alone  would  go  far  to 
warrant  this  ascription ; and  it  is  fully  warranted  by  their 
correspondence  with  the  results  of  deduction,  as  set  forth 
above. 

§ 559.  Any  remaining  doubts  must  disappear  on  observing 
how  continued  militancy  is  followed  by  further  development 
of  the  militant  organization.  Three  illustrations  will  suffice. 

When,  during  Roman  conquests,  the  tendency  for  the  suc- 
cessful general  to  become  despot,  repeatedly  displayed,  finally 
took  effect — when  the  title  imperator , military  in  its  primary 
meaning,  became  the  title  for  the  civil  ruler,  showing  us  on  a 
higher  platform  that  genesis  of  political  headship  out  of  mili- 
tary headship  visible  from  the  beginning — when,  as  usually 
happens,  an  increasingly  divine  character  was  acquired  by 
the  civil  ruler,  as  shown  in  the  assumption  of  the  sacred 
name  Augustus,  as  well  as  in  the  growth  of  an  actual  worship 
of  him  ; there  simultaneously  became  more  pronounced  those 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


587 


further  traits  which  characterize  the  militant  type  in  its 
developed  form.  Practically,  if  not  nominally,  the  other 
powers  of  the  State  were  absorbed  by  him.  In  the  words  of 
Duruy,  he  had — 

“ The  right  of  proposing,  that  is,  of  making  laws  ; of  receiving  and 
trying  appeals,  i.e.  the  supreme  jurisdiction  ; of  arresting  by  the  tribu- 
nitian  veto  every  measure  and  every  sentence,  i.e.  of  putting  his  will  in 
opposition  to  the  laws  and  magistrates ; of  summoning  the  senate  or  the 
people  and  presiding  over  it,  i.e.  of  directing  the  electoral  assemblies  as 
he  thought  fit.  And  these  prerogatives  he  will  have  not  for  a single 
year  but  for  life ; not  in  Rome  only  . . . but  throughout  the  empire ; 
not  shared  with  ten  colleagues,  but  exercised  by  himself  alone  ; lastly, 
without  any  account  to  render,  since  he  never  resigns  his  office.” 

Along  with  these  changes  went  an  increase  in  the  number 
and  definiteness  of  social  divisions.  The  Emperor — 

“ Placed  between  himself  and  the  masses  a multitude  of  people  regu- 
larly classed  by  categories,  and  piled  one  above  the  other  in  such  a way 
that  this  hierarchy,  pressing  with  all  its  weight  upon  the  masses  under- 
neath, held  the  people  and  factious  individuals  powerless.  What 
remained  of  the  old  patrician  nobility  had  the  foremost  rank  in  the  city; 

. . . below  it  came  the  senatorial  nobility,  half  hereditary ; below  that 
the  moneyed  nobility  or  equestrian  order — three  aristocracies  super- 
posed. . . . The  sons  of  senators  formed  a class  intermediate  between 
the  senatorial  and  the  equestrian  order.  ...  In  the  2nd  century  the 
senatorial  families  formed  an  hereditary  nobility  with  privileges.” 

At  the  same  time  the  administrative  organization  was  greatly 
extended  and  complicated. 

“ Augustus  created  a large  number  of  new  offices,  as  the  superintend- 
ence of  public  works,  roads,  aqueducts,  the  Tiber-bed,  distribution  of 
corn  to  the  people.  . . . He  also  created  numerous  offices  of  procurators 
for  the  financial  administration  of  the  empire,  and  in  Rome  there  were 
1,060  municipal  officers.” 

The  structural  character  proper  to  an  army  spread  in  a double 
way : military  officers  acquired  civil  functions  and  function- 
aries of  a civil  kind  became  partially  military.  The  magis- 
trates appointed  by  the  Emperor,  tending  to  replace  those 
appointed  by  the  people,  had,  along  with  their  civil  authority, 
military  authority ; and  while  “ under  Augustus  the  prefects 
of  the  pretorium  were  only  military  chiefs,  . . . they  gradually 
possessed  themselves  of  the  whole  civil  authority,  and  finally 


588 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


became,  after  tlie  Emperor,  the  first  personages  in  the  empire.” 
Moreover,  the  governmental  structures  grew  by  incorporating 
bodies  of  functionaries  who  were  before  independent.  “ In 
his  ardour  to  organize  everything,  he  aimed  at  regimenting 
the  law  itself,  and  made  an  official  magistracy  of  that  which 
had  always  been  a free  profession”  To  enforce  the  rule  of 
this  extended  administration,  the  army  was  made  permanent, 
and  subjected  to  severe  discipline.  With  the  continued 
growth  of  the  regulating  and  coercing  organization,  the  drafts 
on  producers  increased ; and,  as  shown  by  extracts  in  a pre- 
vious chapter  concerning  the  Roman  regime  in  Egypt  and  in 
Gaul,  the  working  part  of  the  community  was  reduced  more 
and  more  to  the  form  of  a permanent  commissariat.  In  Italy 
the  condition  eventually  arrived  at  was  one  in  which  vast 
tracts  were  “ intrusted  to  freedmen,  whose  only  consideration 
was  . . . how  to  extract  from  their  labourers  the  greatest 
amount  of  work  with  the  smallest  quantity  of  food.” 

An  example  under  our  immediate  observation  may  next  be 
taken — that  of  the  German  Empire.  Such  traits  of  the 
militant  type  in  Germany  as  were  before  manifest,  have, 
since  the  late  war,  become  still  more  manifest.  The  army, 
active  and  passive,  including  officers  and  attached  function- 
aries, has  been  increased  by  about  100,000  men;  and  changes 
in  1875  and  1880,  making  certain  reserves  more  available, 
have  practically  caused  a further  increase  of  like  amount. 
Moreover,  the  smaller  German  States,  having  in  great  part 
surrendered  the  administration  of  their  several  contingents, 
the  German  army  has  become  more  consolidated ; and  even 
the  armies  of  Saxony,  Wiirtemberg,  and  Bavaria,  being  sub- 
ject to  Imperial  supervision,  have  in  so  far  ceased  to  be  in- 
dependent. Instead  of  each  year  granting  military  supplies, 
as  had  been  the  practice  in  Prussia  before  the  formation  of 
the  North  German  Confederation,  the  Parliament  of  the 
Empire  was,  in  1871,  induced  to  vote  the  required  annual 
sum  for  three  years  thereafter  ; in  1874  it  did  the  like  for  the 
succeeding  seven  years ; and  again  in  1880  the  greatly 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


589 


increased  amount  for  the  augmented  army  was  authorized  for 
the  seven  years  then  following : steps  obviously  surrendering 
popular  checks  on  Imperial  power.  Simultaneously,  military 
officialism  has  been  in  two  w7ays  replacing  civil  officialism. 
Subaltern  officers  are  rewarded  for  long  services  by  appoint- 
ments to  civil  posts — local  communes  being  forced  to  give 
them  the  preference  to  civilians  ; and  not  a few  members  of 
the  higher  civil  service,  and  of  the  universities,  as  well  as 
teachers  in  the  public  schools,  having  served  as  “ volunteers 
of  one  year/’  become  commissioned  officers  of  the  Landwehr. 
During  the  struggles  of  the  so-called  Kulturkampf,  the  eccle- 
siastical organization  became  more  subordinated  by  the 
political.  Priests  suspended  by  bishops  were  maintained  in 
their  offices ; it  was  made  penal  for  a clergyman  publicly  to 
take  part  against  the  government ; a recalcitrant  bishop  had 
his  salary  stopped ; the  curriculum  for  ecclesiastics  was  pre- 
scribed by  the  State,  and  examination  by  State-officials  re- 
quired ; church  discipline  was  subjected  to  State-approval ; 
and  a power  of  expelling  rebellious  clergy  from  the  country 
was  established.  Passing  to  the  industrial  activities  we  may 
note,  first,  that  through  sundry  steps,  from  1873  onwards, 
there  has  been  a progressive  transfer  of  railways  into  the 
hands  of  the  State ; so  that,  partly  by  original  construction 
(mainly  of  lines  for  military  purposes),  and  partly  by  pur- 
chase, three-fourths  of  ail  Prussian  railways  have  been  made 
government  property  ; and  the  same  percentage  holds  in  the 
other  German  States : the  aim  being  eventually  to  make 
them  all  Imperial.  Trade  interferences  have  been  extended 
in  various  ways — by  protectionist  tariffs,  by  revival  of  the 
usury  laws,  by  restrictions  on  Sunday  labour.  Through  its 
postal  service  the  State  has  assumed  industrial  functions — 
presents  acceptances,  receives  money  on  bills  of  exchange 
that  are  due,  as  also  on  ordinary  bills,  which  it  gets  receipted; 
and  until  stopped  by  shopkeepers’  protests,  undertook  to  pro- 
cure books  from  publishers.  Lastly  there  come  the  measures 
for  extending,  directly  and  indirectly,  the  control  over  popular 


590 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


life.  On  the  one  hand  there  are  the  laws  under  which,  up 
to  the  middle  of  last  year,  224  socialist  societies  have  been 
closed,  180  periodicals  suppressed,  317  books,  &c.,  forbidden; 
and  under  which  sundry  places  have  been  reduced  to  a 
partial  state  of  siege.  On  the  other  hand  may  be  named 
Prince  Bismarck’s  scheme  for  re-establishing  guilds  (bodies 
which  by  their  regulations  coerce  their  members),  and  his 
scheme  of  State-insurance,  by  the  help  of  which  the  artizan 
would,  in  a considerable  degree,  have  his  hands  tied.  Though 
these  measures  have  not  been  carried  in  the  forms  proposed, 
yet  the  proposal  of  them  sufficiently  shows  the  general  ten- 
dency. In  all  which  changes  we  see  progress  towards  a more 
integrated  structure,  towards  increase  of  the  militant  part  as 
compared  with  the  industrial  part,  towards  the  replacing  of 
civil  organization  by  military  organization,  towards  the 
strengthening  of  restraints  over  the  individual  and  regulation 
of  his  life  in  greater  detail.* 

The  remaining  example  to  be  named  is  that  furnished  by 
our  own  society  since  the  revival  of  military  activity — a 
revival  which  has  of  late  been  so  marked  that  our  illustrated 
papers  are,  week  after  week,  occupied  with  little  else  than 
scenes  of  warfare.  Already  in  the  first  volume  of  The  Prin- 
ciples of  Sociology , I have  pointed  out  many  ways  in  which 
the  system  of  compulsory  cooperation  characterizing  the 
militant  type,  has  been  trenching  on  the  system  of  voluntary 
cooperation  characterizing  the  industrial  type ; and  since 
those  passages  appeared  (July,  1876),  other  changes  in  the 
same  direction  have  taken  place.  Within  the  military 
organization  itself,  we  may  note  the  increasing  assimilation 
of  the  volunteer  forces  to  the  regular  army,  now  going  to  the 
extent  of  proposing  to  make  them  available  abroad,  so  that 
instead  of  defensive  action  for  which  they  were  created,  they 

# Tliis  chapter  was  originally  published  in  the  Contemporary  Review  for 
Sept.,  1881.  Since  that  date  a further  movement  of  German  society  in  the 
same  general  direction  has  been  shown  by  the  pronounced  absolutism  of  the 
imperial  rescript  of  Jan.,  1882,  endorsing  Prince  Bismarck’s  scheme  of  State- 
socialism. 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OP  SOCIETY. 


591 


can  be  used  for  offensive  action;  and  we  may  also  note 
that  the  tendency  shown  in  the  army  during  the  past  genera- 
tion to  sink  the  military  character  whenever  possible,  by 
putting  on  civilian  dresses,  is  now  checked  by  an  order  to 
officers  in  garrison  towns  to  wear  their  uniforms  when  off 
duty,  as  they  do  in  more  militant  countries.  Whether,  since 
the  date  named,  usurpations  of  civil  functions  by  military 
men  (which  had  in  1873-4  gone  to  the  extent  that  there 
were  97  colonels,  majors,  captains,  and  lieutenants  employed 
from  time  to  time  as  inspectors  of  science  and  art  classes) 
have  gone  further,  I cannot  say ; but  there  has  been  a mani- 
fest extension  of  the  militant  spirit  and  discipline  among  the 
police,  who,  wearing  helmet-shaped  hats,  beginning  to  carry 
revolvers,  and  looking  upon  themselves  as  half  soldiers,  have 
come  to  speak  of  the  people  as  “ civilians.”  To  an  increasing 
extent  the  executive  has  been  over-riding  the  other  govern- 
mental agencies ; as  in  the  Cyprus  business,  and  as  in  the 
doings  of  the  Indian  Viceroy  under  secret  instructions  from 
home.  In  various  minor  ways  are  shown  endeavours  to  free 
officialism  from  popular  checks ; as  in  the  desire  expressed  in 
the  House  of  Lords  that  the  hanging  of  convicts  in  prisons, 
entrusted  entirely  to  the  authorities,  should  have  no  other 
witnesses;  and  as  in  the  advice  given  by  the  late  Home 
Secretary  (on  11th  May,  1878)  to  the  Derby  Town  Council, 
that  it  should  not  interfere  with  the  chief  constable  (a  mili- 
tary man)  in  his  government  of  the  force  under  him — a step 
towards  centralizing  local  police  control  in  the  Home  Office. 
Simultaneously  we  see  various  actual  or  prospective  exten- 
sions of  public  agency,  replacing  or  restraining  private  agency. 
There  is  the  “ endowment  of  research,”  which,  already  par- 
tially carried  out  by  a government  fund,  many  wish  to  carry 
further ; there  is  the  proposed  act  for  establishing  a registra- 
tion of  authorized  teachers  ; there  is  the  bill  which  provides 
central  inspection  for  local  public  libraries;  there  is  the 
scheme  for  compulsory  insurance — a scheme  showing  us  in 
an  instructive  manner  the  way  in  which  the  regulating  policy 


592 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


extends  itself : compulsory  charity  having  generated  impro- 
vidence, there  comes  compulsory  insurance  as  a remedy  for 
the  improvidence.  Other  proclivities  towards  institutions 
belonging  to  the  militant  type,  are  seen  in  the  increasing 
demand  for  some  form  of  protection,  and  in  the  lamentations 
uttered  by  the  “ society  papers  ” that  duelling  has  gone  out. 
Nay,  even  through  the  party  which  by  position  and  function 
is  antagonistic  to  militancy,  we  see  that  militant  discipline  is 
spreading ; for  the  caucus-system,  established  for  the  better 
organization  of  liberalism,  is  one  which  necessarily,  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree,  centralizes  authority  and  controls 
individual  action. 

Besides  seeing,  then,  that  the  traits  to  be  inferred  a priori 
as  characterizing  the  militant  type,  constantly  exist  in 
societies  which  are  permanently  militant  in  high  degrees,  we 
also  see  that  in  other  societies  increase  of  militant  activity  is 
followed  by  development  of  such  traits. 

§ 560.  In  some  places  I have  stated,  and  in  other  places 
implied,  that  a necessary  relation  exists  between  the  structure 
of  a society  and  the  natures  of  its  citizens.  Here  it  will  be 
well  to  observe  in  detail  the  characters  proper  to,  and 
habitually  exemplified  by,  the  members  of  a typically  militant 
society. 

Other  things  equal,  a society  will  be  successful  in  war  in 
proportion  as  its  members  are  endowed  with  bodily  vigour 
and  courage.  And,  on  the  average,  among  conflicting  societies 
there  will  be  a survival  and  spread  of  those  in  which  the 
physical  and  mental  powers  called  for  in  battle,  are  not  only 
most  marked  but  also  most  honoured.  Egyptian  and  Assyrian 
sculptures  and  inscriptions,  show  us  that  prowess  was  the 
thing  above  all  others  thought  most  worthy  of  record.  Of 
the  words  good,  just,  &c.,  as  used  by 'the  ancient  Greeks, 
Grote  remarks  that  they  “ signify  the  man  of  birth,  wealth, 
influence  and  daring,  whose  arm  is  strong  to  destroy  or  to 
protect,  whatever  may  be  the  turn  of  his  moral  sentiments ; 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


593 


while  the  opposite  epithet,  bad,  designates  the  poor,  lowly, 
and  weak,  from  whose  dispositions,  be  they  ever  so  virtuous 
society  has  little  to  hope  or  to  fear.”  In  the  identification  of 
virtue  with  bravery  among  the  Eomans,  we  have  a like  im- 
plication. During  early  turbulent  times  throughout  Europe, 
the  knightly  character,  which  was  the  honourable  character, 
primarily  included  fearlessness : lacking  this,  good  qualities 
were  of  no  account ; but  with  this,  sins  of  many  kinds,  great 
though  they  might  be,  were  condoned. 

If,  among  antagonist  groups  of  primitive  men,  some  tole- 
rated more  than  others  the  killing  of  their  members— if, 
while  some  always  retaliated  others  did  not ; those  which  did 
not  retaliate,  continually  aggressed  on  with  impunity,  would 
either  gradually  disappear  or  have  to  take  refuge  in  unde- 
sirable habitats.  Hence  there  is  a survival  of  the  unfor- 
giving. Further,  the  lex  tcdionis , primarily  arising  between 
antagonist  groups,  becomes  the  law  within  the  group  ; and 
chronic  feuds  between  component  families  and  clans,  every- 
where proceed  upon  the  general  principle  of  life  for  life. 
Under  the  militant  regime  revenge  becomes  a virtue,  and 
failure  to  revenge  a disgrace.  Among  the  Fijians,  who  foster 
anger  in  their  children,  it  is  not  infrequent  for  a man  to 
commit  suicide  rather  than  live  under  an  insult;  and  in  other 
cases  the  dying  Fijian  bequeathes  the  duty  of  inflicting 
vengeance  to  his  children.  This  sentiment  and  the  resulting 
practices  we  trace  among  peoples  otherwise  wholly  alien,  who 
are,  or  have  been,  actively  militant.  In  the  remote  East  may 
be  instanced  the  Japanese.  They  are  taught  that  “with  the 
slayer  of  his  father  a man  may  not  live  under  the  same 
heaven ; against  the  slayer  of  his  brother  a man  must  never 
have  to  go  home  to  fetch  a weapon ; with  the  slayer  of  his 
friend  a man  may  not  live  in  the  same  State.”  And  in  the 
West  may  be  instanced  France  during  feudal  days,  when  the 
relations  of  one  killed  or  injured  were  required  by  custom  to 
retaliate  on  any  relations  of  the  offender — even  those  living 
at  a distance  and  knowing  nothing  of  the  matter.  Down  to 


594 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  time  of  the  Abbe  Brantome,  the  spirit  was  such  that  that 
ecclesiastic,  enjoining  on  his  nephews  by  his  will  to  avenge 
any  unredressed  wrongs  done  to  him  in  his  old  age,  says  of 
himself — “ I may  boast,  and  I thank  God  for  it,  that  I never 
received  an  injury  without  being  revenged  on  the  author  of 
it.9'  That  where  militancy  is  active,  revenge,  private  as  well 
as  public,  becomes  a duty,  is  well  shown  at  the  present  time 
among  the  Montenegrins — a people  who  have  been  at  war 
with  the  Turks  for  centuries.  “ Dans  le  Montenegro,’9  says 
Boue,  “ on  dira  d’un  homme  d’une  natrie  [clan]  ayant  tue  un 
individu  d9une  autre  : Cette  natrie  nous  doit  une  tete,  et  il 
faut  que  cette  dette  soit  acquittee,  car  qui  ne  se  venge  pas  ne 
se  sancitie  pas.” 

Where  activity  in  destroying  enemies  is  chronic,  destruc- 
tion will  become  a source  of  pleasure ; where  success  in  sub- 
duing fellow-men  is  above  all  things  honoured,  there  will 
arise  delight  in  the  forcible  exercise  of  mastery;  and  with 
pride  in  spoiling  the  vanquished,  will  go  disregard  for  the 
rights  of  property  at  large.  As  it  is  incredible  that  men 
should  be  courageous  in  face  of  foes  and  cowardly  in  face  of 
friends,  so  it  is  incredible  that  the  other  feelings  fostered 
by  perpetual  conflicts  abroad  should  not  come  into  play 
at  home.  We  have  just  seen  that  with  the  pursuit  of 
vengeance  outside  the  society,  there  goes  the  pursuit  of  ven- 
geance inside  the  society;  and  whatever  other  habits  of 
thought  and  action  constant  war  necessitates,  must  show 
their  effects  on  the  social  life  at  large.  Facts  from  various 
places  and  times  prove  that  in  militant  communities  the 
claims  to  life,  liberty,  and  property,  are  little  regarded.  The 
Dahomans,  warlike  to  the  extent  that  both  sexes  are  warriors, 
and  by  whom  slave-hunting  invasions  are,  or  were,  annually 
undertaken  “ to  furnish  funds  for  the  royal  exchequer, 99  show 
their  bloodthirstiness  by  their  annual  “ customs,99  at  which 
multitudinous  victims  are  publicly  slaughtered  for  the  popu- 
lar gratification.  The  Fijians,  again,  highly  militant  in  their 
activities  and  type  of  organization,  who  display  their  reckless- 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


595 


ness  of  life  not  only  by  killing  their  own  people  for  cannibal 
feasts,  but  by  destroying  immense  numbers  of  their  infants 
and  by  sacrificing  victims  on  such  trivial  occasions  as  launch- 
ing a new  canoe,  so  much  applaud  ferocity  that  to  commit  a 
murder  is  a glory.  Early  records  of  Asiatics  and  Europeans 
show  us  the  like  relation.  What  accounts  there  are  of  the 
primitive  Mongols,  who,  when  united,  massacred  western 
peoples  wholesale,  show  us  a chronic  reign  of  violence,  both 
within  and  without  their  tribes ; while  domestic  assassina- 
tions, which  from  the  beginning  have  characterized  the  mili- 
tant Turks,  continue  to  characterize  them  down  to  our  own 
day.  In  proof  that  it  was  so  with  the  Greek  and  Latin  races 
it  suffices  to  instance  the  slaughter  of  the  two  thousand  helots 
by  the  Spartans,  whose  brutality  was  habitual,  and  the 
murder  of  large  numbers  of  suspected  citizens  by  jealous 
Eoman  emperors,  who  also,  like  their  subjects,  manifested 
their  love  of  bloodshed  in  their  arenas.  That  where 

life  is  little  regarded  there  can  be  but  little  regard  for  liberty, 
follows  necessarily.  Those  who  do  not  hesitate  to  end  another’s 
activities  by  killing  him,  will  still  less  hesitate  to  restrain  his 
activities  by  holding  him  in  bondage.  Militant  savages, 
wdiose  captives,  when  not  eaten,  are  enslaved,  habitually  show 
us  this  absence  of  regard  for  fellow-men’s  freedom,  which 
characterizes  the  members  of  militant  societies  in  general. 
How  little,  under  the  regime  of  war,  more  or  less  markedly 
displayed  in  all  early  historic  societies,  there  was  any  sen- 
timent against  depriving  men  of  their  liberties,  is  suffi- 
ciently shown  by  the  fact  that  even  in  the  teachings  of 
primitive  Christianity  there  was  no  express  condemnation  of 
slavery.  Naturally  the  like  holds  with  the  right  of 

property.  Where  mastery  established  by  force  is  honourable, 
claims  to  possession  by  the  weaker  are  likely  to  be  little 
respected  by  the  stronger.  In  Fiji  it  is  considered  chief-like 
to  seize  a subject’s  goods;  and  theft  is  virtuous  if  undis- 
covered. Among  the  Spartans  “ the  ingenious  and  success- 
ful pilferer  gained  applause  with  his  booty.”  In  mediaeval 


596 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Europe,  with  perpetual  robberies  of  one  society  by  another 
there  went  perpetual  robberies  within  each  society.  Under 
the  Merovingians  “the  murders  and  crimes  it  [The  Ecclesias- 
tical History  of  the  Franks ] relates,  have  almost  all  for  their 
object  the  possession  of  the  treasure  of  the  murdered  per- 
sons.’' And  under  Charlemagne  plunder  by  officials  was 
chronic : the  moment  his  back  was  turned,  “ the  provosts  of 
the  king  appropriated  the  funds  intended  to  furnish  food  and 
clothing  for  the  artisans." 

( Where  warfare  is  habitual,  and  the  required  qualities  most 
needful  and  therefore  most  honoured,  those  whose  lives  do  not 
display  them  are  treated  with  contempt,  and  their  occupations 
regarded  as  dishonourable.  In  early  stages  labour  is  the 
business  of  women  and  of  slaves — conquered  men  and  the 
descendants  of  conquered  men ; and  trade  of  every  kind, 
carried  on  by  subject  classes,  long  continues  to  be  identified 
with  lowness  of  origin  and  nature.  In  Dahomey,  “ agricul- 
ture is  despised  because  slaves  are  employed  in  it."  “ The 
Japanese  nobles  and  placemen,  even  of  secondary  rank, 
entertain  a sovereign  contempt  for  traffic."  Of  the  ancient 
Egyptians  Wilkinson  says,  “ their  prejudices  against  mecha- 
nical employments,  as  far  as  regarded  the  soldier,  were  equally 
strong  as  in  the  rigid  Sparta."  “ For  trade  and  commerce 
the  [ancient]  Persians  were  wont  to  express  extreme  con- 
tempt," writes  Rawlinson.  That  progress  of  class-differentia- 
tion which  accompanied  the  conquering  wars  of  the  Romans, 
was  furthered  by  establishment  of  the  rule  that  it  was  dis- 
graceful to  take  money  for  work,  as  also  by  the  law  forbid- 
ding senators  and  senators’  sons  from  engaging  in  speculation. 
And  how  great  has  been  the  scorn  expressed  by  the  militant 
classes  for  the  trading  classes  throughout  Europe,  down  to 
quite  recent  times,  needs  no  showing. 

That  there  may  be  willingness  to  risk  life  for  the  benefit  of 
the  society,  there  must  be  much  of  the  feeling  called  patriot- 
ism. Though  the  belief  that  it  is  glorious  to  die  for  one’s 
country  cannot  be  regarded  as  essential,  since  mercenaries 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


597 


figlit  without  it ; yet  it  is  obvious  that  such  a belief  conduces 
greatly  to  success  in  war ; and  that  entire  absence  of  it  is  so 
unfavourable  to  offensive  and  defensive  action  that  failure 
and  subjugation  will,  other  things  equal,  be  likely  to  result. 
Hence  the  sentiment  of  patriotism  is  habitually  established 
by  the  survival  of  societies  the  members  of  which  are  most 
characterized  by  it. 

With  this  has  to  be  united  the  sentiment  of  obedience.  The 
possibility  of  that  united  action  by  which,  other  things  equal, 
war  is  made  successful,  depends  on  the  readiness  of  indivi- 
duals to  subordinate  their  wills  to  the  will  of  a commander 
or  ruler.  Loyalty  is  essential.  In  early  stages  the  manifes- 
tation of  it  is  but  temporary ; as  among  the  Araucanians  who, 
ordinarily  showing  themselves  “ repugnant  to  all  subordina- 
tion, are  then  [when  war  is  impending]  prompt  to  obey,  and 
submissive  to  the  will  of  their  military  sovereign  ” appointed 
for  the  occasion.  And  with  development  of  the  militant  type 
this  sentiment  becomes  permanent.  Erskine  tells  us  that  the 
Fijians  are  intensely  loyal:  men  buried  alive  in  the  founda- 
tions of  a king's  house,  considered  themselves  honoured  by 
being  so  sacrificed ; and  the  people  of  a slave  district  “ said  it 
was  their  duty  to  become  food  and  sacrifice  for  the  chiefs."  So 
in  Dahomey,  there  is  felt  for  the  king  “ a mixture  of  love 
and  fear,  little  short  of  adoration."  In  ancient  Egypt  again, 
where  “ blind  obedience  was  the  oil  which  caused  the  harmo- 
nious working  of  the  machinery  ” of  social  life,  the  monu- 
ments on  every  side  show  with  wearisome  iteration  the  daily 
acts  of  subordination — of  slaves  and  others  to  the  dead  man, 
of  captives  to  the  king,  of  the  king  to  the  gods.  Though  for 
reasons  already  pointed  out,  chronic  war  did  not  generate  in 
Sparta*  a supreme  political  head,  to  whom  there  could  be 
shown  implicit  obedience,  yet  the  obedience  shown  to  the 
political  agency  which  grew  up  was  profound : individual 
wills  were  in  all  things  subordinate  to  the  public  will  ex- 
pressed by  the  established  authorities.  Primitive  Rome,  too, 
though  without  a divinely-deseended  king  to  whom  submis- 


598 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


sion  could  be  shown,  displayed  great  submission  to  an  ap- 
pointed king,  qualified  only  by  expressions  of  opinion  on 
special  occasions ; and  the  principle  of  absolute  obedience, 
slightly  mitigated  in  the  relations  of  the  community  as  a 
whole  to  its  ruling  agency,  was  unmitigated  within  its  com- 
ponent groups.  That  throughout  European  history,  alike  on 
small  and  on  large  scales,  we  see  the  sentiment  of  loyalty 
dominant  where  the  militant  type  of  structure  is  pronounced, 
is  a truth  that  will  be  admitted  without  detailed  proof. 

From  these  conspicuous  traits  of  nature,  let  us  turn  to 
certain  consequent  traits  which  are  less  conspicuous,  and 
which  have  results  of  less  manifest  kinds.  Along  with 
loyalty  naturally  goes  faith — the  two  being,  indeed,  scarcely 
separable.  Eeadiness  to  obey  the  commander  in  war,  implies 
belief  in  his  military  abilities ; and  readiness  to  obey  him 
during  peace,  implies  belief  that  his  abilities  extend  to  civil 
affairs  also.  Imposing  on  men’s  imaginations,  each  new  con- 
quest augments  his  authority.  There  come  more  frequent 
and  more  decided  evidences  of  his  regulative  action  over 
men’s  lives ; and  these  generate  the  idea  that  his  power  is 
boundless.  Unlimited  confidence  in  governmental  agency  is 
fostered.  Generations  brought  up  under  a system  which  con- 
trols all  affairs,  private  and  public,  tacitly  assume  that  affairs 
can  only  thus  be  controlled.  Those  who  have  experience  of 
no  other  regime  are  unable  to  imagine  any  other  regime . 
In  such  societies  as  that  of  ancient  Peru,  for  example,  wdiere, 
as  we  have  seen,  regimental  rule  was  universal,  there  were  no 
materials  for  framing  the  thought  of  an  industrial  life  spon- 
taneously carried  on  and  spontaneously  regulated. 

By  implication  there  results  repression  of  individual  initia- 
tive, and  consequent  lack  of  private  enterprise.  In  propor- 
tion as  an  army  becomes  organized,  it  is  reduced  to  a state  in 
which  the  independent  action  of  its  members  is  forbidden. 
And  in  proportion  as  regimentation  pervades  the  society  at 
large,  each  member  of  it,  directed  or  restrained  at  every  turn, 
has  little  or  no  power  of  conducting  his  business  otherwise 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


599 


than  by  established  routine.  Slaves  can  do  only  what  they 
are  told  by  their  masters  ; their  masters  cannot  do  anything 
that  is  unusual  without  official  permission  ; and  no  permission 
is  to  be  obtained  from  the  local  authority  until  superior  autlio- 
. rities  through  their  ascending  grades  have  been  consulted. 

{ Hence  the  mental  state  generated  is  that  of  passive  accept- 
ance and  expectancy.  Where  the  militant  type  is  fully 
developed,  everything  must  be  done  by  public  agencies  ; not 
only  for  the  reason  that  these  occupy  all  spheres,  but  for  the 
further  reason  that  did  they  not  occupy  them,  there  would 
arise  no  other  agencies : the  prompting  ideas  and  sentiments 
having  been  obliterated. 

( There  must  be  added  a concomitant  influence  on  the  intel- 
lectual nature,  which  cooperates  with  the  moral  influences 
just  named.  Personal  causation  is  alone  recognized,  and  the 
conception  of  impersonal  causation  is  prevented  from  develop- 
ing. The  primitive  man  has  no  idea  of  cause  in  the  modern 
sense.  The  only  agents  included  in  his  theory  of  things  are 
living  persons  and  the  ghosts  of  dead  persons.  All  unusual 
occurrences,  together  with  those  usual  ones  liable  to  variation, 
he  ascribes  to  supernatural  beings.  And  this  system  of  inter- 
pretation survives  through  early  stages  of  civilization ; as  we 
see,  for  example,  among  the  Homeric  Greeks,  by  whom  wounds, 
deaths,  and  escapes  in  battle,  were  ascribed  to  the  enmity  or 
the  aid  of  the  gods,  and  by  whom  good  and  bad  acts  were  held 
to  be  divinely  prompted.  Continuance  and  development  of 
militant  forms  and  activities  maintain  this  way  of  thinking. 

( In  the  first  place,  it  indirectly  hinders  the  discovery  of 
causal  relations.  The  sciences  grow  out  of  the  arts — begin 
as  generalizations  of  truths  which  practice  of  the  arts  makes 
manifest.  In  proportion  as  processes  of  production  multiply 
in  their  kinds  and  increase  in  their  complexities,  more 
numerous  uniformities  come  to  be  recognized  ; and  the  ideas 
of  necessary  relation  and  physical  cause  arise  and  develop. 
Consequently,  by  discouraging  industrial  progress,  militancy 
checks  the  replacing  of  ideas  of  personal  agency  by  ideas  of 


600 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


impersonal  agency.  In  the  second  place,  it  does  the  like  by 
direct  repression  of  intellectual  culture.  Naturally  a life 
occupied  in  acquiring  knowledge,  like  a life  occupied  in 
industry,  is  regarded  with  contempt  by  a people  devoted  to 
arms,  j The  Spartans  clearly  exemplified  this  relation  in  ancient 
times ; and  it  was  again  exemplified  during  feudal  ages  in 
Europe,  when  learning  w7as  scorned  as  proper  only  for  clerks 
and  the  children  of  mean  people.  And  obviously,  in  propor- 
tion as  warlike  activities  are  antagonistic  to  study  and  the 
spread  of  knowledge,  they  further  retard  that  emancipation 
from  primitive  ideas  which  ends  in  recognition  of  natural 
uniformities.  In  the  third  place,  and  chiefly,  the  effect  in 
question  is  produced  by  the  conspicuous  and  perpetual  expe- 
rience of  personal  agency  which  the  militant  regime  yields. 
In  the  army,  from  the  commander-in-chief  down  to  the 
private  undergoing  drill,  every  movement  is  directed  by  a 
superior;  and  throughout  the  society,  in  proportion  as  its 
regimentation  is  elaborate,  things  are  hourly  seen  to  go  thus 
or  thus  according  to  the  regulating  wills  of  the  ruler  and  his 
subordinates.  In  the  interpretation  of  social  affairs,  personal 
causation  is  consequently  alone  recognized.  History  comes 
to  be  made  up  of  the  doings  of  remarkable  men ; and  it  is 
tacitly  assumed  that  societies  have  been  formed  by  them. 
Wholly  foreign  to  the  habit  of  mind  as  is  the  thought  of 
impersonal  causation,  the  course  of  social  evolution  is  unper- 
ceived. The  natural  genesis  of  social  structures  and  functions 
is  an  utterly  alien  conception,  and  appears  absurd  when 
alleged.  The  notion  of  a self-regulating  social  process  is 
unintelligible.  So  that  militancy  moulds  the  citizen  into  a. 
form  not  only  morally  adapted  but  intellectually  adapted— a 
form  which  cannot  think  away  from  the  entailed  system. 

§ 561.  In  three  ways,  then,  we  are  shown  the  character  of 
the  militant  type  of  social  organization.  Observe  the  con- 
gruities  which  comparison  of  results  discloses. 

Certain  conditions,  manifest  a priori,  have  to  be  fulfilled  by 


THE  MILITANT  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


601 


a society  fitted  for  preserving  itself  in  presence  of  anta- 
gonist societies.  To  be  in  the  highest  degree  efficient,  the 
corporate  action  needed  for  preserving  the  corporate  life  must 
be  joined  in  by  every  one.  Other  things  equal,  the  fighting 
power  will  be  greatest  where  those  who  cannot  fight,  labour 
exclusively  to  support  and  help  those  who  can : an  evident 
implication  being  that  the  working  part  shall  be  no  larger 
than  is  required  for  these  ends.  The  efforts  of  all  being 
utilized  directly  or  indirectly  for  war,  will  be  most  effectual 
when  they  are  most  combined ; and,  besides  union  among  the 
combatants,  there  must  be  such  union  of  the  non-combatants 
with  them  as  renders  the  aid  of  these  fully  and  promptly 
available.  To  satisfy  these  requirements,  the  life,  the  actions, 
and  the  possessions,  of  each  individual  must  be  held  at  the 
service  of  the  society.  This  universal  service,  this  combina- 
tion, and  this  merging  of  individual  claims,  pre-suppose  a 
despotic  controlling  agency.  That  the  will  of  the  soldier- 
chief  may  be  operative  when  the  aggregate  is  large,  there 
must  be  sub-centres  and  sub-sub-centres  in  descending  grades, 
through  whom  orders  may  be  conveyed  and  enforced,  both 
throughout  the  combatant  part  and  the  non-combatant  part. 
As  the  commander  tells  the  soldier  both  what  he  shall  not  do 
and  what  he  shall  do ; so,  throughout  the  militant  community 
at  large,  the  rule  is  both  negatively  regulative  and  positively 
regulative : it  not  only  restrains,  but  it  directs : the  citizen 
as  well  as  the  soldier  lives  under  a system  of  compulsory 
cooperation.  Development  of  the  militant  type  involves 
increasing  rigidity,  since  the  cohesion,  the  combination,  the 
subordination,  and  the  regulation,  to  which  the  units  of  a 
society  are  subjected  by  it,  inevitably  decrease  their  ability 
to  change  their  social  positions,  their  occupations,  their  locali- 
ties. 

On  inspecting  sundry  societies,  past  and  present,  large  and 
small,  which  are,  or  have  been,  characterized  in  high  degrees 
by  militancy,  we  are  shown,  a posteriori , that  amid  the  dif- 
ferences due  to  race,  to  circumstances,  and  to  degrees  of 


602 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


development,  there  are  fundamental  similarities  of  the  kinds 
above  inferred  a priori.  Modern  Dahomey  and  Russia,  as 
well  as  ancient  Peru,  Egypt,  and  Sparta,  exemplify  that 
owning  of  the  individual  by  the  State  in  life,  liberty,  and 
goods,  which  is  proper  to  a social  system  adapted  for  war. 
And  that  with  changes  further  fitting  a society  for  warlike 
activities,  there  spread  throughout  it  an  officialism,  a dictation, 
and  a superintendence,  akin  to  those  under  which  soldiers 
live,  we  are  shown  by  imperial  Rome,  by  imperial  Germany, 
and  by  England  since  its  late  aggressive  activities. 

Lastly  comes  the  evidence  furnished  by  the  adapted  cha- 
racters of  the  men  who  compose  militant  societies.  Making 
success  in  war  the  highest  glory,  they  are  led  to  identify  good- 
ness with  bravery  and  strength.  Revenge  becomes  a sacred 
duty  with  them ; and  acting  at  home  on  the  law  of  retaliation 
which  they  act  on  abroad,  they  similarly,  at  home  as  abroad, 
are  ready  to  sacrifice  others  to  self : their  sympathies,  con- 
tinually deadened  during  war,  cannot  be  active  during  peace. 
They  must  have  a patriotism  which  regards  the  triumph  of 
their  society  as  the  supreme  end  of  action ; they  must  pos- 
sess the  loyalty  whence  flows  obedience  to  authority;  and 
that  they  may  be  obedient  they  must  have  abundant  faith. 
With  faith  in  authority  and  consequent  readiness  to  be 
directed,  naturally  goes  # relatively  little  power  of  initiation. 
The  habit  of  seeing  everything  officially  controlled  fosters  the 
belief  that  official  control  is  everywhere  needful;  while  a course 
of  life  which  makes  personal  causation  familiar  and  negatives 
experience  of  impersonal  causation,  produces  an  inability  to 
conceive  of  any  social  processes  as  carried  on  under  self- 
regulating arrangements.  And  these  traits  of  individual 
nature,  needful  concomitants  as  we  see  of  the  militant  type, 
are  those  which  we  observe  in  the  members  of  actual  militant 
societies. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 

§ 562.  Having  nearly  always  to  defend  themselves  against 
external  enemies,  while  they  have  to  carry  on  internally  the 
processes  of  sustentation,  societies,  as  remarked  in  the  last 
chapter,  habitually  present  us  with  mixtures  of  the  structures 
adapted  to  these  diverse  ends.  Disentanglement  is  not  easy. 
According  as  either  structure  predominates  it  ramifies  through 
the  other : instance  the  fact  that  where  the  militant  type  is 
much  developed,  the  worker,  ordinarily  a slave,  is  no  more 
free  than  the  soldier;  while,  where  the  industrial  type  is 
much  developed,  the  soldier,  volunteering  on  specified  terms, 
acquires  in  so  far  the  position  of  a free  worker.  In  the  one 
case  the  system  of  status,  proper  to  the  fighting  part,  pervades 
the  working  part ; while  in  the  other  the  system  of  contract, 
proper  to  the  working  part,  affects  the  fighting  part.  Especi- 
ally does  the  organization  adapted  for  war  obscure  that 
adapted  for  industry.  While,  as  we  have  seen,  the  militant 
type  as  theoretically  constructed,  is  so  far  displayed  in  many 
societies  as  to  leave  no  doubt  about  its  essential  nature,  the 
industrial  type  has  its  traits  so  hidden  by  those  of  the  still- 
dominant  militant  type,  th^t  its  nature  is  nowhere  more  than 
very  partially  exemplified.)  Saying  thus  much  to  exclude 
expectations  which  cannot  be  fulfilled,  it  will  be  well  also  to 
exclude  certain  probable  misconceptions. 

In  the  first  place,  industrialism  must  not  be  confounded 
with  industriousness.  Though  the  members  of  an  industrially- 

organized  society  are  habitually  industrious,  and  are,  indeed, 
17 


604 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


when  the  society  is  a developed  one,  obliged  to  be  so ; yet  it 
must  not  be  assumed  that  the  industrially-organized  society 
is  one  in  which,  of  necessity,  much  work  is  done.  Where 
the  society  is  small,  and  its  habitat  so  favourable  that  life 
may  be  comfortably  maintained  with  but  little  exertion,  the 
social  relations  which  characterize  the  industrial  type  may  co- 
exist with  but  very  moderate  productive  activities.  It  is 
not  the  diligence  of  its  members  which  constitutes  the 
society  an  industrial  one  in  the  sense  here  intended,  but  the 
form  of  cooperation  under  which  their  labours,  small  or  great 
in  amount,  are  carried  on.  This  distinction  will  be  best  under- 
stood on  observing  that,  conversely,  there  may  be,  and  often 
is,  great  industry  in  societies  framed  on  the  militant  type. 
In  ancient  Egypt  there  was  an  immense  labouring  population 
and  a large  supply  of  commodities,  numerous  in  their  kinds, 
produced  by  it.  Still  more  did  ancient  Peru  exhibit  a vast 
community  purely  militant  in  its  structure,  the  members  of 
which  worked  unceasingly.  We  are  here  concerned,  then,  not 
with  the  quantity  of  labour  but  with  the  mode  of  organi- 
zation of  the  labourers.  A regiment  of  soldiers  can  be  set 
to  construct  earth- works;  another  to  cut  down  wood;  another 
to  bring  in  water ; but  they  are  not  thereby  reduced  for  the 
time  being  to  an  industrial  society.  The  united  individuals 
do  these  several  things  under  command;  and  having  no 
private  claims  to  the  products,  are,  though  industrially  oc- 
cupied, not  industrially  organized.  And  the  same  holds 
throughout  the  militant  society  as  a whole,  in  proportion  as 
the  regimentation  of  it  approaches  completeness. 

The  industrial  type  of  society,  properly  so  called,  must 
also  be  distinguished  from  a type  very  likely  to  be  con- 
founded with  it — the  type,  namely,  in  which  the  component 
individuals,  while  exclusively  occupied  in  production  and 
distribution,  are  under  a regulation  such  as  that  advocated 
by  socialists  and  communists.  For  this,  too,  involves  in 
another  form  the  principle  of  compulsory  cooperation. 
Directly  or  indirectly,  individuals  are  to  be  prevented  from 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


605 


severally  and  independently  occupying  themselves  as  they 
please ; are  to  be  prevented  from  competing  with  one  another 
in  supplying  goods  for  money;  are  to  be  prevented  from 
hiring  themselves  out  on  such  terms  as  they  think  fit.  There 
can  be  no  artificial  system  for  regulating  labour  which  does 
not  interfere  with  the  natural  system.  To  such  extent  as 
men  are  debarred  from  making  whatever  engagements  they 
like,  they  are  to  that  extent  working  under  dictation.  No 
matter  in  what  way  the  controlling  agency  is  constituted,  it 
stands  towards  those  controlled  in  the  same  relation  as  does 
the  controlling  agency  of  a militant  society.  And  how  truly 
the  regime  which  those  who  declaim  against  competition 
would  establish,  is  thus  characterized,  we  see  both  in  the  fact 
that  communistic  forms  of  organization  existed  in  early 
societies  which  were  predominantly  warlike,  and  in  the  fact 
that  at  the  present  time  communistic  projects  chiefly  originate 
among,  and  are  most  favoured  by,  the  more  warlike  societies. 

A further  preliminary  explanation  may  be  needful.  The 
structures  proper  to  the  industrial  type  of  society  must  not 
be  looked  for  in  distinct  forms  when  they  first  appear.  Con- 
trariwise, we  must  expect  them  to  begin  in  vague  unsettled 
forms.  Arising,  as  they  do,  by  modification  of  pre-existing 
structures,  they  are  necessarily  long  in  losing  all  trace  of 
these.  For  example,  transition  from  the  state  in  which  the 
labourer,  owned  like  a beast,  is  maintained  that  he  may  work 
exclusively  for  his  master's  benefit,  to  the  condition  in  which 
he  is  completely  detached  from  master,  soil,  and  locality,  and 
free  to  work  anywhere  and  for  anyone,  is  through  gradations. 
Again,  the  change  from  the  arrangement  proper  to  militancy, 
under  which  subject-persons  receive,  in  addition  to  main- 
tenance, occasional  presents,  to  the  arrangement  under  which, 
in  place  of  both,  they  received  fixed  wages,  or  salaries,  or 
fees,  goes  on  slowly  and  unobtrusively.  Once  more  it  is 
observable  that  the  process  of  exchange,  originally  indefinite, 
has  become  definite  only  where  industrialism  is  considerably 
developed.  Barter  began,  not  with  a distinct  intention  of 


606 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


giving  one  thing  for  another  thing  equivalent  in  value,  but  it 
began  by  making  a present  and  receiving  a present  in  return; 
and  even  now  in  the  East  there  continue  traces  of  this 
primitive  transaction.  In  Cairo  the  purchase  of  articles  from 
a shopkeeper  is  preceded  by  his  offer  of  coffee  and  cigarettes; 
and  during  the  negotiation  which  ends  in  the  engagement  of 
a dahabeah , the  dragoman  brings  gifts  and  expects  to  receive 
them.  Add  to  which  that  there  exists  under  such  conditions 
none  of  that  definite  equivalence  which  characterizes  ex- 
change among  ourselves : prices  are  not  fixed,  but  vary 
widely  with  every  fresh  transaction.  So  that  throughout  our 
interpretations  we  must  keep  in  view  the  truth,  that  the 
structures  and  functions  proper  to  the  industrial  type  dis- 
tinguish themselves  but  gradually  from  those  proper  to  the 
militant  type. 

Having  thus  prepared  the  way,  let  us  now  consider  what 
are,  a priori , the  traits  of  that  social  organization  wdiich, 
entirely  unfitted  for  carrying  on  defence  against  external 
enemies,  is  exclusively  fitted  for  maintaining  the  life  of  the 
society  by  subserving  the  lives  of  its  units.  As  before  in 
treating  of  the  militant  type,  so  here  in  treating  of  the  indus- 
trial type,  we  will  consider  first  its  ideal  form. 

§ 563.  While  corporate  action  is  the  primary  requirement 
in  a society  which  has  to  preserve  itself  in  presence  of  hostile 
societies,  conversely,  in  the  absence  of  hostile  societies, 
corporate  action  is  no  longer  the  primary  requirement. 

The  continued  existence  of  a society  implies,  first,  that  it 
shall  not  be  destroyed  bodily  by  foreign  foes,  and  implies, 
second,  that  it  shall  not  be  destroyed  in  detail  by  failure  of 
its  members  to  support  and  propagate  themselves.  If  danger 
of  destruction  from  the  first  cause  ceases,  there  remains  only 
danger  of  destruction  from  the  second  cause.  Sustentation 
of  the  society  will  now7  be  achieved  by  the  self-sustentation 
and  multiplication  of  its  units.  If  his  own  welfare  and  the 
welfare  of  his  offspring  is  fully  achieved  by  each,  the  welfare 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


607 


of  the  society  is  by  implication  achieved.  Comparatively 
little  corporate  activity  is  now  required.  Each  man  may 
maintain  himself  by  labour,  may  exchange  his  products  for 
the  products  of  others,  may  give  aid  and  receive  payment, 
may  enter  into  this  or  that  combination  for  carrying  on  an 
undertaking,  small  or  great,  without  the  direction  of  the 
society  as  a whole.  The  remaining  end  to  be  achieved  by 
public  action  is  to  keep  private  actions  within  due  bounds ; 
and  the  amount  of  public  action  needed  for  this  becomes 
small  in  proportion  as  private  actions  become  duly  self- 
bounded. 

So  that  whereas  in  the  militant  type  the  demand  for  cor- 
porate action  is  intrinsic,  such  demand  for  corporate  action 
as  continues  in  the  industrial  type  is  mainly  extrinsic — is 
called  for  by  those  aggressive  traits  of  human  nature  which 
chronic  warfare  has  fostered,  and  may  gradually  diminish  as, 
under  enduring  peaceful  life,  these  decrease. 

§ 564.  In  a society  organized  for  militant  action,  the  indi- 
viduality of  each  member  has  to  be  so  subordinated  in  life, 
liberty,  and  property,  that  he  is  largely,  or  completely,  owned 
by  the  State ; but  in  a society  industrially  organized,  no  such 
subordination  of  the  individual  is  called  for.  There  remain 
no  occasions  on  which  he  is  required  to  risk  his  life 
while  destroying  the  lives  of  others ; he  is  not  forced  to 
leave  his  occupation  and  submit  to  a commanding  officer; 
and  it  ceases  to  be  needful  that  he  should  surrender  for  public 
purposes  whatever  property  is  demanded  of  him. 

Under  the  industrial  regime  the  citizen’s  individuality, 
instead  of  being  sacrificed  by  the  society,  has  to  be  defended 
by  the  society.  Defence  of  his  individuality  becomes  the 
society’s  essential  duty.  That  after  external  protection  is  no 
longer  called  for,  internal  protection  must  become  the  cardinal 
function  of  the  State,  and  that  effectual  discharge  of  this 
function  must  be  a predominant  trait  of  the  industrial  type, 
may  be  readily  shown. 


608 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


For  it  is  clear  that,  other  things  equal,  a society  in  which 
life,  liberty,  and  property,  are  secure,  and  all  interests  justly 
regarded,  must  prosper  more  than  one  in  which  they  are  not ; 
and,  consequently,  among  competing  industrial  societies, 
there  must  be  a gradual  replacing  of  those  in  which  personal 
rights  are  imperfectly  maintained,  by  those  in  which  they  are 
perfectly  maintained.  So  that  by  survival  of  the  fittest  must 
be  produced  a social  type  in  which  individual  claims,  con- 
sidered as  sacred,  are  trenched  on  by  the  State  no  further 
than  is  requisite  to  pay  the  cost  of  maintaining  them,  or 
rather,  of  arbitrating  among  them.  For  the  aggressiveness  of 
nature  fostered  by  militancy  having  died  out,  the  corporate 
function  becomes  that  of  deciding  between  those  conflicting 
claims,  the  equitable  adjustment  of  which  is  not  obvious  to 
the  persons  concerned. 

§ 565.  With  the  absence  of  need  for  that  corporate  action 
by  which  the  efforts  of  the  whole  society  may  be  utilized  for 
war,  there  goes  the  absence  of  need  for  a despotic  controlling 
agency. 

Not  only  is  such  an  agency  unnecessary,  but  it  cannot 
exist.  For  since,  as  we  see,  it  is  an  essential  requirement  of 
the  industrial  type,  that  the  individuality  of  each  man  shall 
have  the  fullest  play  compatible  with  the  like  play  of  other 
men’s  individualities,  despotic  control,  showing  itself  as  it 
must  by  otherwise  restricting  men’s  individualities,  is  neces- 
sarily excluded.  Indeed,  by  his  mere  presence  an  autocratic 
ruler  is  an  aggressor  on  citizens.  Actually  or  potentially 
exercising  power  not  given  by  them,  he  in  so  far  restrains 
their  wills  more  than  they  would  be  restrained  by  mutual 
limitation  merely. 

§ 566.  Such  control  as  is  required  under  the  industrial 
type,  can  be  exercised  only  by  an  appointed  agency  for  ascer- 
taining and  executing  the  average  will;  and  a representative 
agency  is  the  one  best  fitted  for  doing  this. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


609 


Unless  tlie  activities  of  all  are  homogeneous  in  kind,  which 
they  cannot  be  in  a developed  society  with  its  elaborate  divi- 
sion of  labour,  there  arises  a need  for  conciliation  of  diver- 
gent interests;  and  to  the  end  of  insuring  an  equitable 
adjustment,  each  interest  must  be  enabled  duly  to  express 
itself.  It  is,  indeed,  supposable  that  the  appointed  agency 
should  be  a single  individual.  But  no  such  single  individual 
could  arbitrate  justly  among  numerous  classes  variously  occu- 
pied, without  hearing  evidence : each  would  have  to  send 
representatives  setting  forth  its  claims.  Hence  the  choice 
would  lie  between  two  systems,  under  one  of  which  the 
representatives  privately  and  separately  stated  their  cases  to 
an  arbitrator  on  whose  single  judgment  decisions  depended ; 
and  under  the  other  of  which  these  representatives  stated 
their  cases  in  one  another’s  presence,  while  judgments  were 
openly  determined  by  the  general  consensus.  Without  insist- 
ing on  the  fact  that  a fair  balancing  of  class -interests  is  more 
likely  to  be  effected  by  this  last  form  of  representation  than 
by  the  first,  it  is  sufficient  to  remark  that  it  is  more  congruous 
with  the  nature  of  the  industrial  type ; since  men’s  indi- 
vidualities are  in  the  smallest  degree  trenched  upon.  Citizens 
who,  appointing  a single  ruler  for  a prescribed  time,  may 
have  a majority  of  their  wills  traversed  by  his  during  this 
time,  surrender  their  individualities  in  a greater  degree  than 
do  those  who,  from  their  local  groups,  depute  a number  of 
rulers ; since  these,  speaking  and  acting  under  public  inspec- 
tion and  mutually  restrained,  habitually  conform  their  deci- 
sions to  the  wills  of  the  majority. 

§ 567.  The  corporate  life  of  the  society  being  no  longer  in 
danger,  and  the  remaining  business  of  government  being  that 
of  maintaining  the  conditions  requisite  for  the  highest  indi- 
vidual life,  there  comes  the  question — What  are  these  condi- 
tions ? 

Already  they  have  been  implied  as  comprehended  under 
the  administration  of  justice ; but  so  vaguely  is  the  meaning 


610 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


of  this  phrase  commonly  conceived,  that  a more  specific  state- 
ment must  be  made.  J ustice  then,  as  here  to  be  understood, 
means  preservation  of  the  normal  connexions  between  acts 
and  results — the  obtainment  by  each  of  as  much  benefit  as 
his  efforts  are  equivalent  to — no  more  and  no  less.  Living 
and  working  within  the  restraints  imposed  by  one  another’s 
presence,  justice  requires  that  individuals  shall  severally 
take  the  consequences  of  their  conduct,  neither  increased  nor 
decreased.  The  superior  shall  have  the  good  of  his  superiority ; 
and  the  inferior  the  evil  of  his  inferiority.  A veto  is  there- 
fore put  on  all  public  action  which  abstracts  from  some  men 
part  of  the  advantages  they  have  earned,  and  awards  to  other 
men  advantages  they  have  not  earned. 

That  from  the  developed  industrial  type  of  society  there 
are  excluded  all  forms  of  communistic  distribution,  the  inevi- 
table trait  of  which  is  that  they  tend  to  equalize  the  lives  of 
good  and  bad,  idle  and  diligent,  is  readily  proved,  F or  when, 
the  struggle  for  existence  between  societies  by  war  having 
ceased,  there  remains  only  the  industrial  struggle  for  existence, 
the  final  survival  and  spread  must  be  on  the  part  of  those 
societies  which  produce  the  largest  number  of  the  best  indi- 
viduals— individuals  best  adapted  for  life  in  the  industrial  state. 
Suppose  two  societies,  otherwise  equal, in  one  of  which  the  supe- 
rior are  allowed  to  retain,  for  their  own  benefit  and  the  benefit 
of  their  offspring,  the  entire  proceeds  of  their  labour ; but  in 
the  other  of  which  the  superior  have  taken  from  them  part  of 
these  proceeds  for  the  benefit  of  the  inferior  and  their  offspring. 
Evidently  the  superior  will  thrive  and  multiply  more  in  the 
first  than  in  the  second.  A greater  number  of  the  best 
children  will  be  reared  in  the  first ; and  eventually  it  will 
outgrow  the  second.  It  must  not  be  inferred  that  private  and 
voluntary  aid  to  the  inferior  is  negatived,  but  only  public 
and  enforced  aid.  Whatever  effects  the  sympathies  of  the 
better  for  the  worse  spontaneously  produce,  cannot,  of  course, 
be  interfered  with  ; and  will,  on  the  whole,  be  beneficial.  For 
while,  on  the  average,  the  better  will  not  carry  such  efforts  so 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


611 


far  as  to  impede  their  own  multiplication,  they  will  carry 
them  far  enough  to  mitigate  the  ill-fortunes  of  the  worse  with- 
out helping  them  to  multiply. 

§ 568.  Otherwise  regarded,  this  system  under  which  the 
efforts  of  each  bring  neither  more  nor  less  than  their  natural 
returns,  is  the  system  of  contract. 

We  have  seen  that  the  regime  of  status  is  in  all  ways 
proper  to  the  militant  type.  It  is  the  concomitant  of  that 
graduated  subordination  by  which  the  combined  action  of  a 
fighting  body  is  achieved,  and  which  must  pervade  the  fighting 
society  at  large  to  insure  its  corporate  action.  Under  this 
regime , the  relation  between  labour  and  produce  is  traversed 
by  authority.  As  in  the  army,  the  food,  clothing,  &c.,  received 
by  each  soldier  are  not  direct  returns  for  work  done,  but  are 
arbitrarily  apportioned,  while  duties  are  arbitrarily  enforced ; 
so  throughout  the  rest  of  the  militant  society,  the  superior 
dictates  the  labour  and  assigns  such  share  of  the  returns  as 
he  pleases.  But  as,  with  declining  militancy  and  growing 
industrialism,  the  power  and  range . of  authority  decrease 
while  uncontrolled  action  increases,  the  relation  of  contract 
becomes  general ; and  in  the  fully-developed  industrial  type 
it  becomes  universal. 

Under  this  universal  relation  of  contract  when  equitably 
administered,  there  arises  that  adjustment  of  benefit  to  effort 
which  the  arrangements  of  the  industrial  society  have  to 
achieve.  If  each  as  producer,  distributor,  manager,  adviser, 
teacher,  or  aider  of  other  kind,  obtains  from  his  fellows  such 
payment  for  his  service  as  its  value,  determined  by  the 
demand,  warrants;  then  there  results  that  correct  appor- 
tioning of  reward  to  merit  which  ensures  the  prosperity  of 
the  superior. 

§ 569.  Again  changing  the  point  of  view,  we  see  that 
whereas  public  control  in  the  militant  type  is  both  positively 
regulative  and  negatively  regulative,  in  the  industrial  type  it 


612 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


is  negatively  regulative  only.  To  the  slave,  to  the  soldier,  or 
to  other  member  of  a community  organized  for  war,  authority 
says — “ Thou  shalt  do  this ; thou  shalt  not  do  that/’  But  to 
the  member  of  the  industrial  community,  authority  gives 
only  one  of  these  orders — “ Thou  shalt  not  do  that.” 

Bor  people  who,  carrying  on  their  private  transactions  by 
voluntary  cooperation,  also  voluntarily  cooperate  to  form  and 
support  a governmental  agency,  are,  by  implication,  people 
who  authorize  it  to  impose  on  their  respective  activities,  only 
those  restraints  which  they  are  all  interested  in  maintaining — 
the  restraints  which  check  aggressions.  Omitting  criminals 
(who  under  the  assumed  conditions  must  be  very  few,  if  not 
a vanishing  quantity),  each  citizen  will  wish  to  preserve  unin- 
vaded his  sphere  of  action,  while  not  invading  others’  spheres, 
and  to  retain  whatever  benefits  are  achieved  within  it.  The 
very  motive  which  prompts  all  to  unite  in  upholding  a public 
protector  of  their  individualities,  will  also  prompt  them  to 
unite  in  preventing  any  interference  with  their  individuali- 
ties beyond  that  required  for  this  end. 

Hence  it  follows  that  while,  in  the  militant  type,  regi- 
mentation in  the  army  is  paralleled  by  centralized  adminis- 
tration throughout  the  society  at  large  ; in  the  industrial  type, 
administration,  becoming  decentralized,  is  at  the  same  time 
narrowed  in  its  range.  Nearly  all  public  organizations  save 
that  for  administering  justice,  necessarily  disappear;  since 
they  have  the  common  character  that  they  either  aggress  on 
the  citizen  by  dictating  his  actions,  or  by  taking  from  him 
more  property  than  is  needful  for  protecting  him,  or  by  both. 
Those  who  are  forced  to  send  their  children  to  this  or  that 
school,  those  who  have,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  help  in  sup- 
porting a State  priesthood,  those  from  whom  rates  are  demanded 
that  parish  officers  may  administer  public  charity,  those  who 
are  taxed  to  provide  gratis  reading  for  people  who  will  not 
save  money  for  library  subscriptions,  those  whose  businesses 
aie  carried  on  under  regulation  by  inspectors,  those  who  have 
to  pay  the  costs  of  State  science-and-art-teaching.  State 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


613 


emigration,  &c.,  all  have  their  individualities  trenched  upon, 
either  by  compelling  them  to  do  what  they  would  not  spon- 
taneously do,  or  by  taking  away  money  which  else  would  have 
furthered  their  private  ends.  Coercive  arrangements  of  such 
kinds,  consistent  with  the  militant  type,  are  inconsistent  with 
the  industrial  type. 

§ 570.  With  the  relatively  narrow  range  of  public  organi- 
zations, there  goes,  in  the  industrial  type,  a relatively  wide 
range  of  private  organizations.  The  spheres  left  vacant  by  the 
one  are  filled  by  the  other. 

Several  influences  conspire  to  produce  this  trait.  Those 
motives  which,  in  the  absence  of  that  subordination  necessi- 
tated by  war,  make  citizens  unite  in  asserting  their  indi- 
vidualities subject  only  to  mutual  limitations,  are  motives 
which  make  them  unite  in  resisting  any  interference  with 
their  freedom  to  form  such  private  combinations  as  do  not 
involve  aggression.  Moreover,  beginning  with  exchanges  of 
goods  and  services  under  agreements  between  individuals,  the 
principle  of  voluntary  cooperation  is  simply  carried  out  in  a 
larger  way  by  individuals  who,  incorporating  themselves, 
contract  with  one  another  for  jointly  pursuing  this  or  that 
business  or  function.  And  yet  again,  there  is  entire  con- 
gruity  between  the  representative  constitutions  of  such  private 
combinations,  and  that  representative  constitution  of  the 
public  combination  which  we  see  is  proper  to  the  industrial 
type.  The  same  law  of  organization  pervades  the  society  in 
general  and  in  detail.  So  that  an  inevitable  trait  of  the 
industrial  type  is  the  multiplicity  and  heterogeneity  of  asso- 
ciations, political,  religious,  commercial,  professional,  philan- 
thropic, and  social,  of  all  sizes. 

§ 571.  Two  indirectly  resulting  traits  of  the  industrial  type 
must  be  added.  The  first  is  its  relative  plasticity. 

So  long  as  corporate  action  is  necessitated  for  national  self- 
preservation — so  long  as,  to  effect  combined  defence  or  offence, 


614 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


there  is  maintained  that  graduated  subordination  which  ties 
all  inferiors  to  superiors,  as  the  soldier  is  tied  to  his  officer — 
so  long  as  there  is  maintained  the  relation  of  status,  which 
tends  to  fix  men  in  the  positions  they  are  severally  bom  to ; 
there  is  insured  a comparative  rigidity  of  social  organization. 
But  with  the  cessation  of  those  needs  that  initiate  and  pre- 
serve the  militant  type  of  structure,  and  with  the  establish- 
ment of  contract  as  the  universal  relation  under  which  efforts 
are  combined  for  mutual  advantage,  social  organization  loses 
its  rigidity.  No  longer  determined  by  the  principle  of  inheri- 
tance, places  and  occupations  are  now  determined  by  the 
principle  of  efficiency ; and  changes  of  structure  follow  when 
men,  not  bound  to  prescribed  functions,  acquire  the  functions 
for  which  they  have  proved  themselves  most  fit.  Easily  modi- 
fied in  its  arrangements,  the  industrial  type  of  society  is 
therefore  one  which  adapts  itself  with  facility  to  new  require- 
ments. 

§ 572.  The  other  incidental  result  to  be  named  is  a ten- 
dency towards  loss  of  economic  autonomy. 

While  hostile  relations  with  adjacent  societies  continue, 
each  society  has  to  be  productively  self-sufficing ; but  with 
the  establishment  of  peaceful  relations,  this  need  for  self- 
sufficingness  ceases.  As  the  local  divisions  composing  one 
of  our  great  nations,  had,  while  they  were  at  feud,  to  produce 
each  for  itself  almost  everything  it  required,  but  now  per- 
manently at  peace  with  one  another,  have  become  so  far 
mutually  dependent  that  no  one  of  them  can  satisfy  its  wants 
without  aid  from  the  rest;  so  the  great  nations  themselves,  at 
present  forced  in  large  measure  to  maintain  their  economic 
autonomies,  will  become  less  forced  to  do  this  as  war  de- 
creases, and  will  gradually  become  necessary  to  one  another. 
While,  on  the  one  hand,  the  facilities  possessed  by  each  for 
certain  kinds  of  production,  will  render  exchange  mutually 
advantageous ; on  the  other  hand,  the  citizens  of  each  will, 
under  the  industrial  regime , tolerate  no  such  restraints  on 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


615 


their  individualities  as  are  implied  by  interdicts  on  exchange 
or  impediments  to  exchange. 

With  the  spread  of  industrialism,  therefore,  the  tendency 
is  towards  the  breaking  down  of  the  divisions  between 
nationalities,  and  the  running  through  them  of  a common 
organization : if  not  under  a single  government,  then  under 
a federation  of  governments. 

§ 573.  Such  being  the  constitution  of  the  industrial  type 
of  society  to  be  inferred  from  its  requirements,  we  have  now 
to  inquire  what  evidence  is  furnished  by  actual  societies 
that  approach  towards  this  constitution  accompanies  the 
progress  of  industrialism. 

As,  during  the  peopling  of  the  Earth,  the  struggle  for  ex- 
istence among  societies,  from  small  hordes  up  to  great 
nations,  has  been  nearly  everywhere  going  on ; it  is,  as  before 
said,  not  to  be  expected  that  we  should  readily  find  examples 
of  the  social  type  appropriate  to  an  exclusively  industrial 
life.  Ancient  records  join  the  journals  of  the  day  in  proving 
that  thus  far  no  civilized  or  semi-civilized  nation  has  fallen 
into  circumstances  making  needless  all  social  structures  for 
resisting  aggression;  and  from  every  region  travellers’  ac- 
counts bring  evidence  that  almost  universally  among  the 
uncivilized,  hostilities  between  tribes  are  chronic.  Still,  a 
few  examples  exist  which  show,  with  tolerable  clearness,  the 
outline  of  the  industrial  type  in  its  rudimentary  form — the 
form  which  it  assumes  where  culture  has  made  but  little  pro- 
gress. We  will  consider  these  first;  and  then  proceed  to 
disentangle  the  traits  distinctive  of  the  industrial  type  as 
exhibited  by  large  nations  which  have  become  predominantly 
industrial  in  their  activities. 

Among  the  Indian  hills  there  are  many  tribes  belonging  to 
different  races,  but  alike  in  their  ‘partially-nomadic  habits. 
Mostly  agricultural,  their  common  practice  is  to  cultivate  a 
patch  of  ground  while  it  yields  average  crops,  and  when  it  is 
exhausted  to  go  elsewhere  and  repeat  the  process.  They  have 


616 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


fled  before  invading  peoples,  and  have  here  and  there  found 
localities  in  which  they  are  able  to  carry  on  their  peaceful 
occupations  unmolested : the  absence  of  molestation  being,  in 
somes  cases,  due  to  their  ability  to  live  in  a malarious  atmo- 
sphere which  is  fatal  to  the  Aryan  races.  Already,  under 
other  heads,  I have  referred  to  the  Bodo  and  to  the  Dhimals 
as  wholly  unmilitary,  as  lacking  political  organization,  as 
being  without  slaves  or  social  grades,  and  as  aiding  one 
another  in  their  heavier  undertakings ; to  the  Todas,  who, 
leading  tranquil  lives,  are  “ without  any  of  those  bonds  of 
union  which  man  in  general  is  induced  to  form  from  a sense 
of  danger/’  and  who  settle  their  disputes  by  arbitration  or  by 
a council  of  five ; to  the  Mishmies  as  being  unwarlike,  as 
having  but  nominal  chiefs,  and  as  administering  justice  by 
an  assembly ; and  I have  joined  with  these  the  case  of  a 
people  remote  in  locality  and  race — the  ancient  Pueblos  of 
North  America — who,  sheltering  in  their  walled  villages  and 
fighting  only  when  invaded,  similarly  united  with  their 
habitually  industrial  life  a free  form  of  government : “ the 
governor  and  his  council  are  [were]  annually  elected  by  the 
people.”  Here  I may  add  sundry  kindred  examples. 

As  described  in  the  Indian  Government  Report  for  1869 — 
70,  “the  ‘ white  Karens’  are  of  a mild  and  peaceful  disposi- 
tion, . . . their  chiefs  are  regarded  as  patriarchs,  who  have 
little  more  than  a nominal  authority ; ” or,  as  said  of  them  by 
Lieut.  McMahon,  “ they  possess  neither  laws  nor  dominant 
authority.”  Instance,  again,  the  “ fascinating  ” Lepchas  ; 
not  industrious,  but  yet  industrial  in  the  sense  that  their 
social  relations  are  of  the  non-militant  type.  Though  I find 
nothing  specific  said  about  the  system  under  which  they  live 
in  their  temporary  villages  ; yet  the  facts  told  us  sufficiently 
imply  its  uncoercive  character.  They  have  no  castes ; “ family 
and  political  feuds  are  alike  unheard  of  amongst  them;” 
“ they  are  averse  to  soldiering  ; ” they  prefer  taking  refuge  in 
the  jungle  and  living  on  wild  food  “ to  enduring  any  injustice 
or  harsh  treatment  ” — traits  winch  negative  ordinary  political 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


617 


control.  Take  next  the  “ quiet,  unoffensive  ” Santals,  who, 
while  they  fight  if  need  be  with  infatuated  bravery  to  resist 
aggression,  are  essentially  unaggressive.  These  people  “ are 
industrious  cultivators,  and  enjoy  their  existence  unfettered 
by  caste.”  Though,  having  become  tributaries,  there  habi- 
tually exists  in  each  village  a head  appointed  by  the  Indian 
Government  to  be  responsible  for  the  tribute,  &c. ; yet  the 
nature  of  their  indigenous  government  remains  sufficiently 
clear.  While  there  is  a patriarch  who  is  honoured,  but  who 
rarely  interferes,  “ every  village  has  its  council  place,  . . . 
where  the  committee  assemble  and  discuss  the  affairs  of  the 
village  and  its  inhabitants.  All  petty  disputes,  both  of  a 
civil  and  criminal  nature,  are  settled  there.”  What  little  is 
told  us  of  tribes  living  in  the  Shervaroy  Hills  is,  so  far  as  it 
goes,  to  like  effect.  Speaking  generally  of  them,  Shortt  says 
they  “ are  essentially  a timid  and  harmless  people,  addicted 
chiefly  to  pastoral  and  agricultural  pursuits ; ” and  more 
specifically  describing  one  division  of  them,  he  says  “ they 
lead  peaceable  lives  among  themselves,  and  any  dispute  that 
may  arise  is  usually  settled  by  arbitration.”  Then,  to  show 
that  these  social  traits  are  not  peculiar  to  any  one  variety  of 
man,  but  are  dependent  on  conditions,  I may  recall  the 
before-named  instance  of  the  Papuan  Arafuras,  who,  without 
any  divisions  of  rank  or  hereditary  chieftainships,  live  in 
harmony,  controlled  only  by  the  decisions  of  their  assembled 
elders.  In  all  which  cases  we  may  discern  the  leading  traits 
above  indicated  as  proper  to  societies  not  impelled  to  corpo- 
rate action  by  war.  Strong  centralized  control  not  being 
required,  such  government  as  exists  is  exercised  by  a council, 
informally  approved—  a rude  representative  government ; 
class-distinctions  do  not  exist,  or  are  but  faintly  indicated — 
the  relation  of  status  is  absent ; whatever  transactions  take 
place  between  individuals  are  by  agreement ; and  the  func- 
tion which  the  ruling  body  has  to  perform,  becomes  substan- 
tially limited  to  protecting  private  life  by  settling  such  disputes 
as  arise,  and  inflicting  mild  punishments  for  small  offences. 


618 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Difficulties  meet  us  when,  turning  to  civilized  societies,  we 
seek  in  them  for  traits  of  the  industrial  type.  Consoli- 
dated and  organized  as  they  have  all  been  by  wars  actively 
carried  on  throughout  the  earlier  periods  of  their  existence, 
and  mostly  continued  down  to  recent  times ; and  having 
simultaneously  been  developing  within  themselves  organiza- 
tions for  producing  and  distributing  commodities,  which  have 
little  by  little  become  contrasted  with  those  proper  to  mili- 
tant activities ; the  two  are  everywhere  presented  so  mingled 
that  clear  separation  of  the  first  from  the  last  is,  as  said  at 
the  outset,  scarcely  practicable.  Radically  opposed,  however, 
as  is  compulsory  cooperation,  the  organizing  principle  of  the 
militant  type,  to  voluntary  cooperation,  the  organizing  prin- 
ciple of  the  industrial  type,  we  may,  by  observing  the  decline 
of  institutions  exhibiting  the  one,  recognize,  by  implication, 
the  growth  of  institutions  exhibiting  the  other.  Hence  if,  in 
passing  from  the  first  states  of  civilized  nations  in  which  war 
is  the  business  of  life,  to  states  in  which  hostilities  are  but 
occasional,  we  simultaneously  pass  to  states  in  which  the 
ownership  of  the  individual  by  his  society  is  not  so  con- 
stantly and  strenuously  enforced,  in  which  the  subjection  of 
rank  to  rank  is  mitigated,  in  which  political  rule  is  no  longer 
autocratic,  in  which  the  regulation  of  citizens’  lives  is  dimi- 
nished in  range  and  rigour,  while  the  protection  of  them  is 
increased  ; we  are,  by  implication,  shown  the  traits  of  a de- 
veloping industrial  type.  Comparisons  of  several  kinds 
disclose  results  which  unite  in  verifying  this  truth. 

Take,  first,  the  broad  contrast  between  the  early  condition 
of  the  more  civilized  European  nations  at  large,  and  their 
later  condition.  Setting  out  from  the  dissolution  of  the 
Roman  empire,  we  observe  that  for  many  centuries  during 
which  conflicts  were  effecting  consolidations,  and  dissolutions, 
and  re-consolidations  in  endless  variety,  such  energies  as 
were  not  directly  devoted  to  war  were  devoted  to  little  else 
than  supporting  the  organizations  which  carried  on  war : the 
working  part  of  each  community  did  not  exist  for  its  own 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


619 


sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  fighting  part.  While  militancy 
was  thus  high  and  industrialism  undeveloped,  the  reign  of 
superior  strength,  continually  being  established  by  societies 
one  over  another,  was  equally  displayed  within  each  society. 
From  slaves  and  serfs,  through  vassals  of  different  grades  up 
to  dukes  and  kings,  there  was  an  enforced  subordination  by 
which  the  individualities  of  all  were  greatly  restricted.  And 
at  the  same  time  that,  to  carry  on  external  aggression  or 
resistance,  the  ruling  power  in  each  group  sacrificed  the 
personal  claims  of  its  members,  the  function  of  defending  its 
members  from  one  another  was  in  but  small  degree  discharged 
by  it : they  were  left  to  defend  themselves.  If  with 

these  traits  of  European  societies  in  mediaeval  times,  we  com- 
pare their  traits  in  modern  times,  we  see  the  following 
essential  differences.  First,  with  the  formation  of  nations 
covering  large  areas,  the  perpetual  wars  within  each  area 
have  ceased ; and  though  the  wars  between  nations  which 
from  time  to  time  occur  are  on  larger  scales,  they  are  less 
frequent,  and  they  are  no  longer  the  business  of  all  freemen. 
Second,  there  has  grown  up  in  each  country  a relatively  large 
population  which  carries  on  production  and  distribution  for 
its  own  maintenance ; so  that  whereas  of  old,  the  working 
part  existed  for  the  benefit  of  the  fighting  part,  now  the 
fighting  part  exists  mainly  for  the  benefit  of  the  working 
part — exists  ostensibly  to  protect  it  in  the  quiet  pursuit  of 
its  ends.  Third,  the  system  of  status,  having  under  some  of 
its  forms  disappeared  and  under  others  become  greatly  miti- 
gated, has  been  almost  universally  replaced  by  the  system  of 
contract.  Only  among  those  who,  by  choice  or  by  conscrip- 
tion, are  incorporated  in  the  military  organization,  does  the 
system  of  status  in  its  primitive  rigour  still  hold  so  long 
as  they  remain  in  this  organization.  Fourth,  with  this  de- 
crease of  compulsory  cooperation  and  increase  of  voluntary 
cooperation,  there  have  diminished  or  ceased  many  minor 
restraints  over  individual  actions.  Men  are  less  tied  to  their 
localities  than  they  were ; they  are  not  obliged  to  profess 


620 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


certain  religious  opinions ; they  are  less  debarred  from  ex- 
pressing their  political  views;  they  no  longer  have  their 
dresses  and  modes  of  living  dictated  to  them;  they  are 
comparatively  little  restrained  from  forming  private  com- 
binations and  holding  meetings  for  one  or  other  purpose — 
political,  religious,  social.  Fifth,  while  the  individualities  of 
citizens  are  less  aggressed  upon  by  public  agency,  they  are 
more  protected  by  public  agency  against  aggression.  Instead 
of  a regime  under  which  individuals  rectified  their  private 
wrongs  by  force  as  well  as  they  could,  or  else  bribed  the  ruler, 
general  or  local,  to  use  his  power  in  their  behalf,  there  has 
come  a regime  under  which,  while  much  less  self-protection 
is  required,  a chief  function  of  the  ruling  power  and  its 
agents  is  to  administer  justice.  In  all  ways,  then,  we  are 
shown  that  with  this  relative  decrease  of  militancy  and 
relative  increase  of  industrialism,  there  has  been  a change 
from  a social  order  in  which  individuals  exist  for  the  benefit 
of  the  State,  to  a social  order  in  which  the  State  exists  for 
the  benefit  of  individuals. 

When,  instead  of  contrasting  early  European  communities 
at  large  with  European  communities  at  large  as  they  now 
exist,  we  contrast  the  one  in  which  industrial  development 
has  been  less  impeded  by  militancy  with  those  in  which  it 
has  been  more  impeded  by  militancy,  parallel  results  are 
apparent.  Between  our  own  society  and  continental  societies, 
as  for  example,  France,  the  differences  which  have  gradually 
arisen  may  be  cited  in  illustration.  After  the  con- 

quering Normans  had  spread  over  England,  there  was  esta- 
blished here  a much  greater  subordination  of  local  rulers  to 
the  general  ruler  than  existed  in  France ; and,  as  a result, 
there  was  not  nearly  so  much  internal  dissension.  Says 
Hallam,  speaking  of  this  period,  “ we  read  very  little  of 
private  wars  in  England.”  Though  from  time  to  time,  as 
under  Stephen,  there  were  rebellions,  and  though  there  were 
occasional  fights  between  nobles,  yet  for  some  hundred  and 
fifty  years,  up  to  the  time  of  King  John,  the  subjection  main- 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


621 


tained  secured  comparative  order.  Further,  it  is  to  be  noted 
that  such  general  wars  as  occurred  were  mostly  carried  on 
abroad.  Descents  on  our  coasts  were  few  and  unimportant, 
and  conflicts  with  Wales,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  entailed  but 
few  intrusions  on  English  soil.  Consequently,  there  was  a 
relatively  small  hindrance  to  industrial  life  and  the  growth 
of  social  forms  appropriate  to  it.  Meanwhile,  the  condition 
of  France  was  widely  different.  During  this  period  and  long 
after,  besides  wars  with  England  (mostly  fought  out  on 
French  soil)  and  wars  with  other  countries,  there  were  going 
on  everywhere  local  wars.  From  the  10th  to  the  14th  century 
perpetual  fights  between  suzerains  and  their  vassals  occurred, 
as  well  as  fights  of  vassals  with  one  another.  Not  until 
towards  the  middle  of  the  14th  century  did  the  king  begin 
greatly  to  predominate  over  the  nobles ; and  only  in  the 
15th  century  was  there  established  a supreme  ruler  strong 
enough  to  prevent  the  quarrels  of  local  rulers.  How  great 
was  the  repression  of  industrial  development  caused  by 
internal  conflicts,  may  be  inferred  from  the  exaggerated 
language  of  an  old  writer,  who  says  of  this  period,  during 
which  the  final  struggle  of  monarchy  with  feudalism  was 
going  on,  that  “ agriculture,  traffic,  and  all  the  mechanical 
arts  ceased/’  Such  being  the  contrast  between  the 

small  degree  in  which  industrial  life  was  impeded  by  war  in 
England,  and  the  great  degree  in  which  it  was  impeded  by 
war  in  France,  let  us  ask — what  were  the  political  contrasts 
which  arose.  The  first  fact  to  be  noted  is  that  in  the  middle 
of  the  13th  century  there  began  in  England  a mitigation  of 
villeinage,  by  limitation  of  labour-services  and  commutation 
of  them  for  money,  and  that  in  the  14th  century  the  trans- 
formation of  a servile  into  a free  population  had  in  great 
measure  taken  place ; while  in  France,  as  in  other  continental 
countries,  the  old  condition  survived  and  became  worse.  As 
Mr.  Freeman  says  of  this  period — “in  England  villeinage 
was  on  the  whole  dying  out,  while  in  many  other  countries  it 
was  getting  harder  and  harder.”  Besides  this  spreading  sub- 


622 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


stitution  of  contract  for  status,  which,  taking  place  first  in 
the  industrial  centres,  the  towns,  afterwards  went  on  in  the 
rural  districts,  there  was  going  on  an  analogous  enfranchise- 
ment of  the  noble  class.  The  enforced  military  obligations  of 
vassals  were  more  and  more  replaced  by  money  payments  or 
scutages ; so  that  by  King  John’s  time,  the  fighting  services 
of  the  upper  class  had  been  to  a great  extent  compounded 
for,  like  the  labour  services  of  the  lower  class.  After  dimi- 
nished restraints  over  persons,  there  came  diminished  invasions 
of  property.  By  the  Charter,  arbitrary  tallages  on  towns  and 
non-military  king’s  tenants  were  checked ; and  while  the 
aggressive  actions  of  the  State  were  thus  decreased,  its  pro- 
tective actions  were  extended : provisions  were  made  that 
justice  should  be  neither  sold,  delayed,  nor  denied.  All 
which  changes  were  towards  those  social  arrangements  which 
we  see  characterize  the  industrial  type.  Then,  in  the  next 
place,  we  have  the  subsequently-occurring  rise  of  a represen- 
tative government ; which,  as  shown  in  a preceding  chapter 
by  another  line  of  inquiry,  is  at  once  the  product  of  industrial 
growth  and  the  form  proper  to  the  industrial  type.  But  in 
France  none  of  these  changes  took  place.  Villeinage  remain- 
ing unmitigated  continued  to  comparatively  late  times ; com- 
pounding for  military  obligation  of  vassal  to  suzerain  was  less 
general ; and  when  there  arose  tendencies  towards  the  esta- 
blishment of  an  assembly  expressing  the  popular  will,  they 
proved  abortive.  Detailed  comparisons  of  subsequent 

periods  and  their  changes  would  detain  us  too  long : it  must 
suffice  to  indicate  the  leading  facts.  Beginning  with  the  date 
at  which,  under  the  influences  just  indicated,  parliamentary 
government  was  finally  established  in  England,  we  find  that 
for  a century  and  a half,  down  to  the  Wars  of  the  Boses,  the 
internal  disturbances  were  few  and  unimportant  compared 
with  those  which  took  place  in  France ; and  at  the  same 
time  (remembering  that  the  wars  between  England  and 
France,  habitually  taking  place  on  French  soil,  affected  the 
state  of  France  more  than  that  of  England)  we  note  that 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


623 


France  carried  on  serious  wars  with  Flanders,  Castille  and 
Navarre  besides  the  struggle  with  Burgundy:  the  result 
being  that  while  in  England  popular  power  as  expressed  by 
the  House  of  Commons  became  settled  and  increased,  such 
power  as  the  States  General  had  acquired  in  France,  dwindled 
away.  Not  forgetting  that  by  the  Wars  of  the  Boses,  lasting 
over  thirty  years,  there  was  initiated  a return  towards 
absolutism;  let  us  contemplate  the  contrasts  which  subse- 
quently arose.  For  a century  and  a half  after  these  civil  con- 
flicts ended,  there  were  but  few  and  trivial  breaches  of  internal 
peace ; while  such  wars  as  went  on  with  foreign  powers,  not 
numerous,  took  place  as  usual  out  of  England.  During  this 
period  the  retrograde  movement  which  the  Wars  of  the 
Boses  set  up,  was  reversed,  and  popular  power  greatly  in- 
creased ; so  that  in  the  words  of  Mr.  Bagehot,  “ the  slavish 
parliament  of  Henry  VIII.  grew  into  the  murmuring  parlia- 
ment of  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  mutinous  Parliament  of 
James  I.,  and  the  rebellious  parliament  of  Charles  I."  Mean- 
while France,  during  the  first  third  of  this  period,  had  been 
engaged  in  almost  continuous  external  wars  with  Itaty, 
Spain,  and  Austria ; while  during  the  remaining  two-thirds, 
it  suffered  from  almost  continuous  internal  wars,  religious 
and  political : the  accompanying  result  being  that,  notwith- 
standing resistances  from  time  to  time  made,  the  monarchy 
became  increasingly  despotic.  Fully  to  make  manifest 

the  different  social  types  which  had  been  evolved  under  these 
different  conditions,  we  have  to  compare  not  only  the  respec- 
tive political  constitutions  but  also  the  respective  systems  of 
social  control.  Observe  what  these  were  at  the  time  when 
there  commenced  that  reaction  which  ended  in  the  French 
revolution.  In  harmony  with  the  theory  of  the  militant  type, 
that  the  individual  is  in  life,  liberty,  and  property,  owned  by 
the  State,  the  monarch  was  by  some  held  to  be  the  universal 
proprietor.  The  burdens  he  imposed  upon  landowners  were 
so  grievous  that  a part  of  them  preferred  abandoning  their 
estates  to  paying.  Then  besides  the  taking  of  property  by 


624 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  State,  there  was  the  taking  of  labour.  One-fourth  of  the 
working  days  in  the  year  went  to  the  corvees , due  now  to  the 
king  and  now  to  the  feudal  lord.  Such  liberties  as  were 
allowed,  had  to  be  paid  for  and  again  paid  for : the  municipal 
privileges  of  towns  being  seven  times  in  twenty-eight  years 
withdrawn  and  re-sold  to  them.  Military  services  of  nobles 
and  people  were  imperative  to  whatever  extent  the  king 
demanded ; and  conscripts  were  drilled  under  the  lash.  At 
the  same  time  that  the  subjection  of  the  individual  to  the 
State  was  pushed  to  such  an  extreme  by  exactions  of  money 
and  services  that  the  impoverished  people  cut  the  grain  while 
it  was  green,  ate  grass,  and  died  of  starvation  in  multitudes, 
the  State  did  little  to  guard  their  persons  and  homes.  Con- 
temporary writers  enlarge  on  the  immense  numbers  of  high- 
way robberies,  burglaries,  assassinations,  and  torturings  of 
people  to  discover  their  hoards.  Herds  of  Vagabonds,  levying 
blackmail,  roamed  about ; and  when,  as  a remedy,  penalties 
were  imposed,  innocent  persons  denounced  as  vagabonds  were 
sent  to  prison  without  evidence.  No  personal  security  could 
be  had  either  against  the  ruler  or  against  powerful  enemies. 
In  Paris  there  were  some  thirty  prisons  where  untried  and 
unsentenced  people  might  be  incarcerated  ; and  the  “ brigand- 
age of  justice  *’  annually  cost  suitors  forty  to  sixty  millions 
of  francs.  While  the  State,  aggressing  on  citizens  to  such 
extremes,  thus  failed  to  protect  them  against  one  another,  it 
was  active  in  regulating  their  private  lives  and  labours. 
Eeligion  was  dictated  to  the  extent  that  Protestants  were  im- 
prisoned, sent  to  the  galleys,  or  whipped,  and  their  ministers 
hanged.  The  quantity  of  salt  (on  which  there  was  a heavy 
tax)  to  be  consumed  by  each  person  was  prescribed ; as  were 
also  the  modes  of  its  use.  Industry  of  every  kind  was  super- 
vised. Certain  crops  were  prohibited ; and  vines  destroyed 
that  were  on  soils  considered  unfit.  The  wheat  that  might 
be  bought  at  market  was  limited  to  two  bushels ; and  sales 
took  place  in  presence  of  dragoons.  Manufacturers  were 
regulated  in  their  processes  and  products  to  the  extent  that 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


625 


there  was  destruction  of  improved  appliances  and  of  goods 
not  made  according  to  law,  as  well  as  penalties  upon  in- 
ventors. Eegulations  succeeded  one  another  so  rapidly  that 
amid  their  multiplicity,  government  agents  found  it  difficult 
to  carry  them  out ; and  with  increasing  official  orders  there 
came  increasing  swarms  of  public  functionaries.  Turning 
now  to  England  .at  the  same  period,  we  see  that  along  with 
progress  towards  the  industrial  type  of  political  structure, 
carried  to  the  extent  that  the  House  of  Commons  had  become 
the  predominant  power,  there  had  gone  a progress  towards 
the  accompanying  social  system.  Though  the  subjection  of 
the  individual  to  the  State  was  considerably  greater  than  now, 
it  was  far  less  than  in  France.  His  private  rights  w^ere  not 
sacrificed  in  the  same  unscrupulous  way ; and  he  was  not  in 
danger  of  a lettre  de  cachet.  Though  justice  was  very  imper- 
fectly administered,  still  it  was  not  administered  so  wretchedly: 
there  was  a fair  amount  of  personal  security,  and  aggressions 
on  property  were  kept  within  bounds.  The  disabilities  of 
Protestant  dissenters  were  diminished  early  in  the  century ; 
and,  later  on,  those  of  Catholics.  Considerable  freedom  of 
the  press  was  acquired,  showing  itself  in  the  discussion  of 
political  questions,  as  well  as  in  the  publication  of  par- 
liamentary debates ; and,  about  the  same  time,  there  came 
free  speech  in  public  meetings.  While  thus  the  State 
aggressed  on  the  individual  less  and  protected  him  more,  it 
interfered  to  a smaller  extent  with  his  daily  transactions. 
Though  there  was  much  regulation  of  commerce  and  industry, 
yet  it  was  pushed  to  no  such  extreme  as  that  which  in  France 
subjected  agriculturists,  manufacturers,  and  merchants,  to  an 
army  of  officials  who  directed  their  acts  at  every  turn.  In 
brief,  the  contrast  between  our  state  and  that  of  France  was 
such  as  to  excite  the  surprise  and  admiration  of  various  French 
writers  of  the  time  ; from  whom  Mr.  Buckle  quotes  numerous 
passages  showing  this. 

Most  significant  of  all,  however,  are  the  changes  in  England 
itself,  first  retrogressive  and  then  progressive,  that  occurred 


626 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


during  the  war-period  which  extended  from  1775  to  1815, 
and  during  the  subsequent  period  of  peace.  At  the  end  of 
the  last  century  and  the  beginning  of  this,  reversion  towards 
ownership  of  the  individual  by  the  society  had  gone  a long 
way.  “ To  statesmen,  the  State,  as  a unit,  was  all  in  all,  and 
it  is  really  difficult  to  find  any  evidence  that  the  people  were 
thought  of  at  all,  except  in  the  relation  of  obedience.”  “ The 
Government  regarded  the  people  with  little  other  view  than 
as  a taxable  and  soldier-yielding  mass.”  While  the  militant 
part  of  the  community  had  greatly  developed,  the  industrial 
part  had  approached  towards  the  condition  of  a permanent 
commissariat.  By  conscription  and  by  press-gangs,  was 
carried  to  a relatively  vast  extent  that  sacrifice  of  the  citizen 
in  life  and  liberty  which  war  entails ; and  the  claims  to 
property  were  trenched  on  by  merciless  taxation,  weighing 
down  the  middle  classes  so  grievously  that  they  had  greatly 
to  lower  their  rate  of  living,  while  the  people  at  large  were 
so  distressed  (partly  no  doubt  by  bad  harvests)  that  “ hun- 
dreds ate  nettles  and  other  weeds.”  With  these  major  aggres- 
sions upon  the  individual  by  the  State,  went  numerous 
minor  aggressions.  Irresponsible  agents  of  the  executive 
were  empowered  to  suppress  public  meetings  and  seize  their 
leaders  : death  being  the  punishment  for  those  who  did  not 
disperse  when  ordered.  Libraries  and  news-rooms  could  not 
be  opened  without  licence ; and  it  was  penal  to  lend  books 
without  permission.  There  were  “ strenuous  attempts  made 
to  silence  the  press and  booksellers  dared  not  publish  works 
by  obnoxious  authors.  “ Spies  were  paid,  witnesses  were 
suborned,  juries  were  packed,  and  the  habeas  corpus  Act  being 
constantly  suspended,  the  Crown  had  the  power  of  imprison- 
ing without  inquiry  and  without  limitation.”  While  the 
Government  taxed  and  coerced  and  restrained  the  citizen  to 
this  extent,  its  protection  of  him  was  inefficient.  It  is  true 
that  the  penal  code  was  made  more  extensive  and  more  severe. 
The  definition  of  treason  was  enlarged,  and  numerous  offences 
were  made  capital  which  were  not  capital  before ; so  that 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


627 


there  was  “ a vast  and  absurd  variety  of  offences  for  which 
men  and  women  were  sentenced  to  death  by  the  score  there 
was  “ a devilish  levity  in  dealing  with  human  life.”  But  at 
the  same  time  there  was  not  an  increase,  but  rather  a decrease, 
of  security.  As  says  Mr.  Pike  in  his  History  of  Crime  in 
England , “ it  became  apparent  that  the  greater  the  strain  of 
the  conflict  the  greater  is  the  danger  of  a reaction  towards 
violence  and  lawlessness.”  Turn  now  to  the  opposite 

picture.  After  recovery  from  the  prostration  which  prolonged 
wars  had  left,  and  after  the  dying  away  of  those  social  per- 
turbations caused  by  impoverishment,  there  began  a revival  of 
traits  proper  to  the  industrial  type.  Coercion  of  the  citizen 
by  the  State  decreased  in  various  ways.  Voluntary  enlist- 
ment replaced  compulsory  military  service ; and  there  dis 
appeared  some  minor  restraints  over  personal  freedom,  as 
instance  the  repeal  of  laws  which  forbade  artizans  to  travel 
where  they  pleased,  and  which  interdicted  trades-unions. 
With  these  manifestations  of  greater  respect  for  personal 
freedom,  may  be  joined  those  shown  in  the  amelioration  of  the 
penal  code:  the  public  whipping  of  females  being  first 
abolished ; then  the  long  list  of  capital  offences  being  reduced 
until  there  finally  remained  but  one ; and,  eventually,  the  pillory 
and  imprisonment  for  debt  being  abolished.  Such  penalties 
on  religious  independence  as  remained  disappeared ; first  by 
removal  of  those  directed  against  Protestant  Dissenters,  and 
then  of  those  which  weighed  on  Catholics,  and  then  of 
some  which  told  specially  against  Quakers  and  Jews.  By 
the  Parliamentary  Eeform  Bill  and  the  Municipal  Reform 
Bill,  vast  numbers  were  removed  from  the  subject  classes 
to  the  governing  classes.  Interferences  with  the  business- 
transactions  of  citizens  were  diminished  by  allowing  free 
trade  in  bullion,  by  permitting  joint-stock  banks,  by  abolish- 
ing multitudinous  restrictions  on  the  importation  of  com- 
modities— leaving  eventually  but  few  which  pay  duty.  More- 
over while  these  and  kindred  changes,  such  as  the  removal 
of  restraining  burdens  on  the  press,  decreased  the  impedi- 


628 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


ments  to  free  actions  of  citizens,  the  protective  action  of 
the  State  was  increased.  By  a greatly-improved  police  system, 
by  county  courts,  and  so  forth,  personal  safety  and  claims 
to  property  were  better  secured. 

Not  to  elaborate  the  argument  further  by  adding  the  case 
of  the  United  States,  which  repeats  with  minor  differences 
the  same  relations  of  phenomena,  the  evidence  given  ade- 
quately supports  the  proposition  laid  down.  Amid  all  the 
complexities  and  perturbations,  comparisons  show  us  with 
sufficient  clearness  that  in  actually-existing  societies  those 
attributes  which  we  inferred  must  distinguish  the  industrial 
type,  show  themselves  clearly  in  proportion  as  the  social 
activities  are  predominantly  characterized  by  exchange  of 
services  under  agreement. 


§ 574.  As,  in  the  last  chapter,  we  noted  the  traits  of  cha- 
racter proper  to  the  members  of  a society  which  is  habitually 
at  war;  so  here,  wTe  have  to  note  the  traits  of  character 
proper  to  the  members  of  a society  occupied  exclusively  in 
peaceful  pursuits.  Already  in  delineating  above,  the  rudi- 
ments of  the  industrial  type  of  social  structure  as  exhibited 
in  certain  small  groups  of  unwarlike  peoples,  some  indications 
of  the  accompanying  personal  qualities  have  been  given ; but 
it  will  be  well  now  to  emphasize  these  and  add  to  them, 
before  observing  the  kindred  personal  qualities  in  more 
advanced  industrial  communities. 

Absence  of  a centralized  coercive  rule,  implying  as  it  does 
feeble  political  restraints  exercised  by  the  society  over  its 
units,  is  accompanied  by  a strong  sense  of  individual  freedom, 
and  a determination  to  maintain  it.  The  amiable  Bodo  and 
Dhimals,  as  we  have  seen,  resist  “ injunctions  injudiciously 
urged  with  dogged  obstinacy.”  The  peaceful  Lepchas  “ un- 
dergo great  privations  rather  than  submit  to  oppression  or 
injustice.”  The  “ simple-minded  Santal  ” has  a “ strong 
natural  sense  of  justice,  and  should  any  attempt  be  made  to 
coerce  him,  he  flies  the  country.”  Similarly  of  a tribe  not 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


629 


before  mentioned,  tbe  Jakuns  of  the  South  Malayan  Peninsula, 
who,  described  as  “ entirely  inoffensive,”  personally  brave 
but  peaceful,  and  as  under  no  control  but  that  of  popularly- 
appointed  heads  who  settle  their  disputes,  are  also  described 
as  “ extremely  proud the  so-called  pride  being  exemplified 
by  the  statement  that  their  remarkably  good  qualities  “ induced 
several  persons  to  make  attempts  to  domesticate  them,  but 
such  essays  have  generally  ended  in  the  J akuns’  disappearance 
on  the  slightest  coercion.” 

"With  a strong  sense  of  their  own  claims,  these  uii warlike 
men  display  unusual  respect  for  the  claims  of  others.  This  is 
shown  in  the  first  place  by  the  rarity  of  personal  collisions 
among  them.  Hodgson  says  that  the  Bodo  and  the  Dhimals 
“ are  void  of  all  violence  towards  their  own  people  or  towards 
their  neighbours.”  Of  the  peaceful  tribes  of  the  Neilgherry 
Hills,  Colonel  Ouchterlony  writes : — “ drunkenness  and 
violence  are  unknown  amongst  them.”  Campbell  remarks  of 
the  Lepchas,  that  “ they  rarely  quarrel  among  themselves.”  The 
Jakuns,  too,  “ have  very  seldom  quarrels  among  themselves;” 
and  such  disputes  as  arise  are  settled  by  their  popularly-chosen 
heads  “without  fighting  or  malice.”  In  like  manner  the 
Arafuras  “ live  in  peace  and  brotherly  love  with  one  another.” 
Further,  in  the  accounts  of  these  peoples  we  read  nothing 
about  the  lex  talionis.  In  the  absence  of  hostilities  with  adja- 
cent groups  there  does  not  exist  within  each  group  that 
“ sacred  duty  of  blood-revenge  ” universally  recognized  in 
military  tribes  and  nations.  Still  more  significantly,  we 
find  evidence  of  the  opposite  doctrine  and  practice.  Says 
Campbell  of  the  Lepchas — “ they  are  singularly  forgiving  of 
injuries  . . . making  mutual  amends  and  concessions.” 

Naturally,  with  respect  for  others’  individualities  thus 
shown,  goes  respect  for  their  claims  to  property.  Already  in 
the  preliminary  chapter  I have  quoted  testimonies  to  the 
great  honesty  of  the  Bodo  and  the  Dhimals,  the  Lepchas,  the 
Santals,  the  Todas,  and  other  peoples  kindred  in  their  form  of 
social  life ; and  here  I may  add  further  ones.  Of  the  Lepchas, 


630 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Hooker  remarks  : — “ in  all  my  dealings  with  these  people,  they 
proved  scrupulously  honest.”  “ Among  the  pure  Santals,” 
writes  Hunter,  “ crime  and  criminal  officers  are  unknown 
while  of  the  Hos,  belonging  to  the  same  group  as  the  Santals, 
Dalton  says,  “ a reflection  on  a man’s  honesty  or  veracity 
may  be  sufficient  to  send  him  to  self-destruction.”  Shortt 
testifies  that  “ the  Todas,  as  a body,  have  never  been  convicted 
of  heinous  crimes  of  any  kind  and  concerning  other  tribes 
of  the  Shervaroy  Hills,  he  states  that  “ crime  of  a serious 
nature  is  unknown  amongst  them.”  Again  of  the  Jakuns  we 
read  that  “ they  are  never  known  to  steal  anything,  not  even 
the  most  insignificant  trifle.”  And  so  of  certain  natives  of 
Malacca  who  “ are  naturally  of  a commercial  tarn,”  Jukes 
writes  : — “ no  part  of  the  world  is  freer  from  crime  than  the 
district  of  Malacca ;”  “ a few  petty  cases  of  assault,  or  of 
disputes  about  property  . . . are  all  that  occur.” 

Thus  free  from  the  coercive  rule  which  warlike  activities 
necessitate,  and  without  the  sentiment  which  makes  the 
needful  subordination  possible — thus  maintaining  their  own 
claims  while  respecting  the  like  claims  of  others — thus 
devoid  of  the  vengeful  feelings  which  aggressions  without 
and  within  the  tribe  generate ; these  peoples,  instead  of  the 
bloodthirstiness,  the  cruelty,  the  selfish  trampling  upon  in- 
feriors, characterizing  militant  tribes  and  societies,  display,  in 
unusual  degrees,  the  humane  sentiments.  Insisting  on  their 
amiable  qualities,  Hodgson  describes  the  Bodo  and  the 
Dhimals  as  being  “ almost  entirely  free  from  such  as  are 
unamiable.”  Bemarking  that  “ while  courteous  and  hos- 
pitable he  is  firm  and  free  from  cringing,”  Hunter  tells  us 
of  the  Santal  that  he  thinks  “ uncharitable  men”  will  suffer 
after  death.  Saying  that  the  Lepchas  are  “ ever  foremost  in 
the  forest  or  on  the  bleak  mountain,  and  ever  ready  to  help, 
to  carry,  to  encamp,  collect,  or  cook,”  Hooker  adds — “ they 
cheer  on  the  traveller  by  their  unostentatious  zeal  in  his 
service ; ” and  he  also  adds  that,  “ a present  is  divided  equally 
amongst  many,  without  a syllable  of  discontent  or  grudging 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


631 


look  or  word”  Of  the  Jakuns,  too,  Favre  tells  us  that 
“ they  are  generally  kind,  affable,  inclined  to  gratitude  and  to 
beneficence : ” their  tendency  being  not  to  ask  favours  but  to 
confer  them.  And  then  of  the  peaceful  Arafuras  we  learn 
from  Kolff  that — 

“ They  have  a very  excusable  ambition  to  gain  the  name  of  rich  men, 
by  paying  the  debts  of  their  poorer  villagers.  The  officer  [M.  Bik], 
whom  I quoted  above,  related  to  me  a very  striking  instance  of  this. 
At  Affara  he  was  present  at  the  election  of  the  village  chiefs,  two  indi- 
viduals aspiring  to  the  station  of  Orang  Tua.  The  people  chose  the 
elder  of  the  two,  which  greatly  afflicted  the  other,  but  he  soon  after- 
wards expressed  himself  satisfied  with  the  choice  the  people  had  made, 
and  said  to  M.  Bik,  who  had  been  sent  there  on  a commission,  ‘ What 
reason  have  I to  grieve  ; whether  I am  Orang  Tua  or  not,  I still  have 
it  in  my  power  to  assist  my  fellow  villagers.’  Several  old  men  agreed 
to  this,  apparently  to  comfort  him.  Thus  the  only  use  they  make  of 
their  riches  is  to  employ  it  in  settling  differences.” 

With  these  superiorities  of  the  social  relations  in  perma- 
nently peaceful  tribes,  go  superiorities  of  the  domestic  rela- 
tions. As  I have  before  pointed  out  (§  327),  while  the  status 
of  women  is  habitually  very  low  in  tribes  given  to  war  and 
in  more  advanced  militant  societies,  it  is  habitually  very  high 
in  these  primitive  peaceful  societies.  The  Bodo  and  the 
Dhimals,  the  Kocch,  the  Santals,  the  Lepchas,  are  monogamie, 
as  were  also  the  Pueblos ; and  along  with  their  monogamy 
habitually  goes  a superior  sexual  morality.  Of  the  Lepchas 
Hooker  says — “ the  females  are  generally  chaste,  and  the 
marriage  tie  is  strictly  kept.”  Among  the  Santals  “ unchas- 
tity is  almost  unknown,”  and  "divorce  is  rare.”  By  the 
Bodo  and  the  Dhimals,  “ polygamy,  concubinage  and  adultery 
are  not  tolerated ; ” “ chastity  is  prized  in  man  and  woman, 
married  and  unmarried.”  Further  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the 
behaviour  to  women  is  extremely  good.  “ The  Santal  treats 
the  female  members  of  his  family  with  respect ; ” the  Bodo 
and  the  Dhimals  “ treat  their  wives  and  daughters  with  con- 
fidence and  kindness ; they  are  free  from  all  out-door  work 
whatever.”  And  even  among  the  Todas,  low  as  are  the  forms 
of  their  sexual  relations,  "the  wives  are  treated  by  their 


632 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


husbands  with  marked  respect  and  attention.”  Moreover,  we 
are  told  concerning  sundry  of  these  unwarlike  peoples  that 
the  status  of  children  is  also  high ; and  there  is  none  of  that 
distinction  of  treatment  between  boys  and  girls  which 
characterizes  militant  peoples. 

Of  course  on  turning  to  the  civilized  to  observe  the  form 
of  individual  character  which  accompanies  the  industrial 
form  of  society,  we  encounter  the  difficulty  that  the  per- 
sonal traits  proper  to  industrialism,  are,  like  the  social 
traits,  mingled  with  those  proper  to  militancy.  It  is  mani- 
festly thus  with  ourselves.  A nation  which,  besides  its 
occasional  serious  wars,  is  continually  carrying  on  small  wars 
with  uncivilized  tribes — a nation  which  is  mainly  ruled  in 
Parliament  and  through  the  press  by  men  whose  school- 
discipline  led  them  during  six  days  in  the  wreek  to  take 
Achilles  for  their  hero,  and  on  the  seventh  to  admire  Christ 
— a nation  wffiich,  at  its  public  dinners,  habitually  toasts  its 
army  and  navy  before  toasting  its  legislative  bodies ; has  not 
so  far  emerged  out  of  militancy  that  we  can  expect  either  the 
institutions  or  the  characteristics  proper  to  industrialism 
to  be  shown  with  clearness.  In  independence,  in  honesty,  in 
truthfulness,  in  humanity,  its  citizens  are  not  likely  to  be  the 
equals  of  the  uncultured  but  peaceful  peoples  above  de- 
scribed. All  we  may  anticipate  is  an  approach  to  those 
moral  qualities  appropriate  to  a state  undisturbed  by  inter- 
national hostilities ; and  this  we  find. 

In  the  first  place,  with  progress  of  the  regime  of  contract 
has  come  growth  of  independence.  Daily  exchange  of  ser- 
vices under  agreement,  involving  at  once  the  maintenance  of 
personal  claims  and  respect  for  the  claims  of  others,  has 
fostered  a normal  self-assertion  and  consequent  resistance  to 
unauthorized  power.  The  facts  that  the  word  “ indepen- 
dence/’ in  its  modern  sense,  was  not  in  use  among  us  before 
the  middle  of  the  last  century,  and  that  on  the  continent 
independence  is  less  markedly  displayed,  suggest  the  con- 
nexion between  this  trait  and  a developing  industrialism. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


633 


The  trait  is  shown  in  the  multitudinousness  of  religious  sects, 
in  the  divisions  of  political  parties,  and,  in  minor  ways,  by 
the  absence  of  those  “ schools  ” in  art,  philosophy,  &c.,  which, 
among  continental  peoples,  are  formed  by  the  submission  of 
disciples  to  an  adopted  master.  That  Englishmen  show,  more 
than  their  neighbours,  a jealousy  of  dictation,  and  a determi- 
nation to  act  as  they  think  fit,  will  not,  I think,  be  disputed. 

The  diminished  subordination  to  authority,  which  is  the 
obverse  of  this  independence,  of  course  implies  decrease  of 
loyalty.  Worship  of  the  monarch,  at  no  time  with  us  reach- 
ing the  height  it  did  in  France  early  in  the  last  century,  or 
in  Russia  down  to  recent  times,  has  now  changed  into  a 
respect  depending  very  much  on  the  monarch's  personal 
character.  Our  days  witness  no  such  extreme  servilities  of 
expression  as  were  used  by  ecclesiastics  in  the  dedication  of 
the  Bible  to  King  J ames,  nor  any  such  exaggerated  adulations 
as  those  addressed  to  George  III.  by  the  House  of  Lords. 
The  doctrine  of  divine  right  has  long  since  died  away ; belief 
in  an  indwelling  supernatural  power  (implied  by  the  touching 
for  king’s  evil,  &e.)  is  named  as  a curiosity  of  the  past ; and 
the  monarchical  institution  has  come  to  be  defended  on  grounds 
of  expediency.  So  great  has  been  the  decrease  of  this  senti- 
ment which,  under  the  militant  regime,  attaches  subject  to 
ruler,  that  now-a-days  the  conviction  commonly  expressed  is 
that,  should  the  throne  be  occupied  by  a Charles  II.  or  a 
George  IV.,  there  would  probably  result  a republic.  And 
this  change  of  feeling  is  shown  in  the  attitude  towards  the 
Government  as  a whole.  For  not  only  are  there  many  who 
dispute  the  authority  of  the  State  in  respect  of  sundry 
matters  besides  religious  beliefs,  but  there  are  some  who 
passively  resist  what  they  consider  unjust  exercises  of  its 
authority,  and  pay  fines  or  go  to  prison  rather  than  submit. 

As  this  last  fact  implies,  along  with  decrease  of  loyalty  has 
gone  decrease  of  faith,  not  in  monarchs  only  but  in  govern- 
ments. Such  belief  in  royal  omnipotence  as  existed  in 
ancient  Egypt,  where  the  power  of  the  ruler  was  supposed  to 


634 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


extend  to  tlie  other  world,  as  it  is  even  now  supposed  to  do 
in  China,  has  had  no  parallel  in  the  West;  but  still,  among 
European  peoples  in  past  times,  that  confidence  in  the  soldier- 
king  essential  to  the  militant  type,  displayed  itself  among 
other  ways  in  exaggerated  conceptions  of  his  ability  to  rectify 
mischiefs,  achieve  benefits,  and  arrange  things  as  he  willed. 
If  we  compare  present  opinion  among  ourselves  with  opinion 
in  early  days,  we  find  a decline  in  these  credulous  expecta- 
tions. Though,  during  the  late  retrograde  movement  towards 
militancy,  State-power  has  been  invoked  for  various  ends, 
and  faith  in  it  has  increased ; yet,  up  to  the  commencement 
of  this  reaction,  a great  change  had  taken  place  in  the  other 
direction.  After  the  repudiation  of  a State-enforced  creed, 
there  came  a denial  of  the  State’s  capacity  for  determining 
religious  truth,  and  a growing  movement  to  relieve  it  from 
the  function  of  religious  teaching ; held  to  be  alike  needless 
and  injurious.  Long  ago  it  had  ceased  to  be  thought  that 
Government  could  do  any  good  by  regulating  people’s  food, 
clothing,  and  domestic  habits ; and  over  the  multitudinous 
processes  carried  on  by  producers  and  distributors,  constitut- 
ing immensely  the  larger  part  of  our  social  activities,  we  no 
longer  believe  that  legislative  dictation  is  beneficial.  More- 
over, every  newspaper  by  its  criticisms  on  the  acts  of  ministers 
and  the  conduct  of  the  House  of  Commons,  betrays  the 
diminished  faith  of  citizens  in  their  rulers.  Nor  is  it  only 
by  contrasts  between  past  and  present  among  ourselves  that 
we  are  shown  this  trait  of  a more  developed  industrial  state. 
It  is  shown  by  kindred  contrasts  between  opinion  here  and 
opinion  abroad.  The  speculations  of  social  reformers  in 
France  and  in  Germany,  prove  that  the  hope  for  benefits  to 
be  achieved  by  State-agency  is  far  higher  with  them  than 
with  us. 

Along  with  decrease  of  loyalty  and  concomitant  decrease  of 
faith  in  the  powers  of  governments,  has  gone  decrease  of 
patriotism — patriotism,  that  is,  under  its  original  form.  To 
fight  “ for  king  and  country  ” is  an  ambition  which  now-a- 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


635 


days  occupies  but  a small  space  in  men’s  minds ; and  though 
there  is  among  us  a majority  whose  sentiment  is  represented 
by  the  exclamation — “ Our  country,  right  or  wrong ! ” yet 
there  are  large  numbers  whose  desire  for  human  welfare  at 
large,  so  far  overrides  their  desire  for  national  prestige,  that 
they  object  to  sacrificing  the  first  to  the  last.  The  spirit  of 
self-criticism,  which  in  sundry  respects  leads  us  to  make  un- 
favourable comparisons  between  ourselves  and  our  continental 
neighbours,  leads  us  more  than  heretofore  to  blame  ourselves 
for  wrong  conduct  to  weaker  peoples.  The  many  and  strong 
reprobations  of  our  dealings  with  the  Afghans,  the  Zulus,  and 
the  Boers,  show  that  there  is  a large  amount  of  the  feeling- 
reprobated  by  the  “ Jingo  ’’-class  as  unpatriotic. 

That  adaptation  of  individual  nature  to  social  needs,  which, 
in  the  militant  state,  makes  men  glory  in  war  and  despise 
peaceful  pursuits,  has  partially  brought  about  among  us  a 
converse  adjustment  of  the  sentiments.  The  occupation  of 
the  soldier  has  ceased  to  be  so  much  honoured,  and  that  of 
the  civilian  is  more  honoured.  During  the  forty  years’  peace, 
the  popular  sentiment  became  such  that  “ soldiering  ” was 
spoken  of  contemptuously;  and  those  who  enlisted,  habitually 
the  idle  and  the  dissolute,  were  commonly  regarded  as  having 
completed  their  disgrace.  Similarly  in  America  before  the 
late  civil  war,  such  small  military  gatherings  and  exercises  as 
from  time  to  time  occurred,  excited  general  ridicule.  Mean- 
while we  see  that  labours,  bodily  and  mental,  useful  to  self 
and  others,  have  come  to  be  not  only  honourable  but  in  a 
considerable  degree  imperative.  In  America  the  adverse 
comments  on  a man  who  does  nothing,  almost  force  him  into 
some  active  pursuit;  and  among  ourselves  the  respect  for 
industrial  life  has  become  such  that  men  of  high  rank  put 
their  sons  into  business. 

While,  as  we  saw,  the  compulsory  cooperation  proper  to 
militancy,  forbids,  or  greatly  discourages,  individual  initiative, 
the  voluntary  cooperation  which  distinguishes  industrialism, 
gives  free  scope  to  individual  initiative,  and  develops  it  by 


636 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


letting  enterprise  bring  its  normal  advantages.  Those  who 
are  successfully  original  in  idea  and  act,  prospering  and 
multiplying  in  a greater  degree  than  others,  produce,  in  course 
of  time,  a general  type  of  nature  ready  to  undertake  new 
things.  The  speculative  tendencies  of  English  and  American 
capitalists,  and  the  extent  to  which  large  undertakings,  both 
at  home  and  abroad,  are  carried  out  by  them,  sufficiently 
indicate  this  trait  of  character.  Though,  along  with  consider- 
able qualifications  of  militancy  by  industrialism  on  the  con- 
tinent, there  has  occurred  there,  too,  an  extension  of  private 
enterprise;  yet  the  fact  that  while  many  towns  in  France  and 
Germany  have  been  supplied  with  gas  and  water  by  English 
companies,  there  is  in  England  but  little  of  kindred  achieve- 
ment by  foreign  companies,  shows  that  among  the  more 
industrially-modified  English,  individual  initiative  is  more 
decided. 

There  is  evidence  that  the  decline  of  international  hostili- 
ties, associated  as  it  is  with  the  decline  of  hostilities  between 
families  and  between  individuals,  is  followed  by  a weakening 
of  revengeful  sentiments.  This  is  implied  by  the  fact  that  in 
our  own  country  the  more  serious  of  these  private  wars  early 
ceased,  leaving  only  the  less  serious  in  the  form  of  duels, 
which  also  have  at  length  ceased : their  cessation  coinciding 
with  the  recent  great  development  of  industrial  life — a fact 
with  which  may  be  joined  the  fact  that  in  the  more  militant 
societies,  France  and  Germany,  they  have  not  ceased.  So 
much  among  ourselves  has  the  authority  of  the  lex  talionis 
waned,  that  a man  whose  actions  are  known  to  be  prompted 
by  the  wish  for  vengeance  on  one  who  has  injured  him,  is 
reprobated  rather  than  applauded. 

With  decrease  of  the  aggressiveness  shown  in  acts  of 
violence  and  consequent  acts  of  retaliation,  has  gone  decrease 
of  the  aggressiveness  shown  in  criminal  acts  at  large.  That 
this  change  has  been  a concomitant  of  the  change  from  a 
more  militant  to  a more  industrial  state,  cannot  be  doubted 
by  one  who  studies  the  history  of  crime  in  England.  Says 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


637 


Mr.  Pike  in  his  work  on  that  subject,  “ the  close  connexion 
between  the  military  spirit  and  those  actions  which  are  now 
legally  defined  to  be  crimes,  has  been  pointed  out,  again  and 
again,  in  the  course  of  this  history.”  If  we  compare  a past 
age  in  which  the  effects  of  hostile  activities  had  been  less 
qualified  by  the  effects  of  peaceful  activities  than  they  are  in 
our  own  age,  we  see  a marked  contrast  in  respect  of  the 
numbers  and  kinds  of  offences  against  person  and  property. 
We  have  no  longer  any  English  buccaneers ; wreckers  have 
ceased  to  be  heard  of;  and  travellers  do  not  now  prepare 
themselves  to  meet  highwaymen.  Moreover,  that  flagitious- 
ness of  the  governing  agencies  themselves,  which  was  shown 
by  the  venality  of  ministers  and  members  of  Parliament,  and 
by  the  corrupt  administration  of  justice,  has  disappeared. 
With  decreasing  amount  of  crime  has  come  increasing  repro- 
bation of  crime.  Biographies  of  pirate  captains,  suffused 
with  admiration  of  their  courage,  no  longer  find  a place  in 
our  literature  ; and  the  sneaking  kindness  for  “ gentlemen  of 
the  road,”  is,  in  our  days,  but  rarely  displayed.  Many  as  are 
the  transgressions  which  our  journals  report,  they  have  greatly 
diminished ; and  though  in  trading  transactions  there  is  much 
dishonesty  (chiefly  of  the  indirect  sort)  it  needs  but  to  read 
Defoe's  English  Tradesman , to  see  how  marked  has  been  the 
improvement  since  his  time.  Nor  must  we  forget  that  the 
change  of  character  which  has  brought  a decrease  of  unjust 
actions,  has  brought  an  increase  of  beneficent  actions  ; as  seen 
in  paying  for  slave-emancipation,  in  nursing  the  wounded 
soldiers  of  our  fighting  neighbours,  in  philanthropic  efforts  of 
countless  kinds. 

§ 575.  As  with  the  militant  type  then,  so  with  the  indus- 
trial type,  three  lines  of  evidence  converge  to  show  us  its 
essential  nature.  Let  us  set  down  briefly  the  several  results, 
that  we  may  observe  the  correspondences  among  them. 

On  considering  what  must  be  the  traits  of  a society 
organized  exclusively  for  carrying  on  internal  activities,  so  as 


638 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


most  efficiently  to  subserve  the  lives  of  citizens,  we  find  them 
to  be  these.  A corporate  action  subordinating  individual 
actions  by  uniting  them  in  joint  effort,  is  no  longer  requisite. 
Contrariwise,  such  corporate  action  as  remains  has  for  its 
end  to  guard  individual  actions  against  all  interferences  not 
necessarily  entailed  by  mutual  limitation : the  type  of  society 
in  which  this  function  is  best  discharged,  being  that  which 
must  survive,  since  it  is  that  of  which  the  members  will  most 
prosper.  Excluding,  as  the  requirements  of  the  industrial 
type  do,  a despotic  controlling  agency,  they  imply,  as  the 
only  congruous  agency  for  achieving  such  corporate  action  as 
is  needed,  one  formed  of  representatives  who  serve  to  express 
the  aggregate  will.  The  function  of  this  controlling  agency, 
generally  defined  as  that  of  administering  justice,  is  more 
specially  defined  as  that  of  seeing  that  each  citizen  gains 
neither  more  nor  less  of  benefit  than  his  activities  normally 
bring ; and  there  is  thus  excluded  all  public  action  involving 
any  artificial  distribution  of  benefits.  Tire  regime  of  status 
proper  to  militancy  having  disappeared,  the  regime  of  contract 
which  replaces  it  has  to  be  universally  enforced;  and  this 
negatives  interferences  between  efforts  and  results  by  arbitrary 
apportionment.  Otherwise  regarded,  the  industrial  type  is 
distinguished  from  the  militant  type  as  being  not  both  posi- 
tively regulative  and  negatively  regulative,  but  as  being 
negatively  regulative  only.  With  this  restricted  sphere  for 
corporate  action  comes  an  increased  sphere  for  individual 
action ; and  from  that  voluntary  cooperation  which  is  the 
fundamental  principle  of  the  type,  arise  multitudinous  private 
combinations,  akin  in  their  structures  to  the  public  com- 
bination of  the  society  which  includes  them.  Indirectly  it 
results  that  a society  of  the  industrial  type  is  distinguished 
by  plasticity ; and  also  that  it  tends  to  lose  its  economic 
autonomy,  and  to  coalesce  with  adjacent  societies. 

The  question  next  considered  was,  whether  these  traits  of 
the  industrial  type  as  arrived  at  by  deduction  are  inductively 
verified ; and  we  found  that  in  actual  societies  they  are  visible 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


639 


more  or  less  clearly  in  proportion  as  industrialism  is  more  or 
less  developed.  Glancing  at  those  small  groups  of  uncultured 
people  who,  wholly  unwarlike,  display  the  industrial  type  in 
its  rudimentary  form,  we  went  on  to  compare  the  structures 
of  European  nations  at  large  in  early  days  of  chronic  mili- 
tancy, with  their  structures  in  modem  days  characterized  by 
progressing  industrialism ; and  we  saw  the  differences  to  be 
of  the  kind  implied.  We  next  compared  two  of  these 
societies,  France  and  England,  which  were  once  in  kindred 
states,  but  of  which  the  one  has  had  its  industrial  life  much 
more  repressed  by  its  militant  life  than  the  other ; and  it 
became  manifest  that  the  contrasts  wdrich,  age  after  age,  arose 
between  their  institutions,  were  such  as  answer  to  the  hypo- 
thesis. Lastly,  limiting  ourselves  to  England  itself,  and  first 
noting  how  recession  from  such  traits  of  the  industrial  type 
as  had  shown  themselves,  occurred  during  a long  war-period, 
we  observed  how,  during  the  subsequent  long  period  of  peace 
beginning  in  1815,  there  were  numerous  and  decided  ap- 
proaches to  that  social  structure  which  we  concluded  must 
accompany  developed  industrialism. 

We  then  inquired  what  type  of  individual  nature  accom- 
panies the  industrial  type  of  society ; with  the  view  of  seeing 
whether,  from  the  character  of  the  unit  as  well  as  from  the 
character  of  the  aggregate,  confirmation  is  to  be  derived. 
Certain  uncultured  peoples  whose  lives  are  passed  in  peaceful 
occupations,  proved  to  be  distinguished  by  independence, 
resistance  to  coercion,  honesty,  truthfulness,  forgivingness, 
kindness.  On  contrasting  the  characters  of  our  ancestors 
during  more  warlike  periods  with  our  own  characters,  we  see 
that,  with  an  increasing  ratio  of  industrialism  to  militancy, 
have  come  a growing  independence,  a less-marked  loyalty,  a 
smaller  faith  in  governments,  and  a more  qualified  patriotism ; 
and  while,  by  enterprising  action,  by  diminished  faith  in 
authority,  by  resistance  to  irresponsible  power,  there  has  been 
shown  a strengthening  assertion  of  individuality,  there  has 
accompanied  it  a growing  respect  for  the  individualities  of 


640 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


others,  as  is  implied  by  the  diminution  of  aggressions  upon 
them  and  the  multiplication  of  efforts  for  their  welfare. 

To  prevent  misapprehension  it  seems  needful,  before  closing, 
to  explain  that  these  traits  are  to  be  regarded  less  as  the 
immediate  results  of  industrialism  than  as  the  remote  results 
of  non-militancy.  It  is  not  so  much  that  a social  life  passed 
in  peaceful  occupations  is  positively  moralizing,  as  that  a 
social  life  passed  in  war  is  positively  demoralizing.  Sacrifice 
of  others  to  self  is  in  the  one  incidental  only ; while  in  the 
other  it  is  necessary.  Such  aggressive  egoism  as  accom- 
panies the  industrial  life  is  extrinsic  ; whereas  the  aggressive 
egoism  of  the  militant  life  is  intrinsic.  Though  generally 
unsympathetic,  the  exchange  of  services  under  agreement  is 
now,  to  a considerable  extent,  and  may  be  wholly,  carried  on 
with  a due  regard  to  the  claims  of  others — may  be  constantly 
accompanied  by  a sense  of  benefit  given  as  well  as  benefit 
received;  but  the  slaying  of  antagonists,  the  burning  of  their 
houses,  the  appropriation  of  their  territory,  cannot  but  be 
accompanied  by  vivid  consciousness  of  injury  done  them, 
and  a consequent  brutalizing  effect  on  the  feelings — an  effect 
wrought,  not  on  soldiers  only,  but  on  those  who  employ  them 
and  contemplate  their  deeds  with  pleasure.  The  last  form  of 
social  life,  therefore,  inevitably  deadens  the  sympathies  and 
generates  a state  of  mind  which  prompts  crimes  of  trespass ; 
while  the  first  form,  allowing  the  sympathies  free  play  if  it 
does  not  directly  exercise  them,  favours  the  growth  of  altru- 
istic sentiments  and  the  resulting  virtues. 

Note. — This  reference  to  the  natural  genesis  of  a higher  moral  nature, 
recalls  a controversy  some  time  since  carried  on.  In  a “Symposium”  pub- 
lished in  the  'Nineteenth  Century  for  April  and  May,  1877,  was  discussed 
“ the  influence  upon  morality  of  a decline  in  religious  belief : ” the  question 
eventually  raised  being  whether  morality  can  exist  without  religion.  Not 
much  difficulty  in  answering  this  question  will  be  felt  by  those  who,  from 
the  conduct  of  the  rude  tribes  described  in  this  chapter,  turn  to  that  of 
Europeans  during  a great  part  of  the  Christian  era  ; with  its  innumerable  and 
immeasurable  public  and  private  atrocities,  its  bloody  aggressive  wars,  its 
ceaseless  family-vendettas,  its  bandit  barons  and  fighting  bishops,  its  massa- 
cres, political  and  religious,  its  torturings  and  burnings,  its  all-pervading  crime 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  TYPE  OF  SOCIETY. 


641 


from  the  assassinations  of  and  by  kings  down  to  the  lyings  and  petty  thefts  of 
slaves  and  serfs.  Nor  do  the  contrasts  between  our  own  conduct  at  the 
present  time  and  the  conduct  of  these  so-called  savages,  leave  us  in  doubt  con- 
cerning the  right  answer.  When,  after  reading  police  reports,  criminal  assize 
proceedings,  accounts  of  fraudulent  bankruptcies,  &c.,  which  in  our  journals 
accompany  advertisements  of  sermons  and  reports  of  religious  meetings, 
we  learn  that  the  “ amiable  ” Bodo  and  Dhimals,  who  are  so  “ honest  and 
truthful,”  “ have  no  word  for  God,  for  soul,  for  heaven,  for  hell  ” (though 
they  have  ancestor-worship  and  some  derivative  beliefs),  we  find  ourselves 
unable  to  recognize  the  alleged  connexion.  If,  side  by  side  with  narratives  of 
bank-frauds,  rail  way -jobbings,  turf-chicaneries,  &e.,  among  people  who  are 
anxious  that  the  House  of  Commons  should  preserve  its  theism  untainted,  wo 
place  descriptions  of  the  “ fascinating  ” Lepchas,  who  are  so  “ wonderfully 
honest,”  but  who  “ profess  no  religion,  though  acknowledging  the  existence 
of  good  and  bad  spirits  ” (to  the  last  of  whom  only  they  pay  any  attention), 
we  do  not  see  our  way  to  accepting  the  dogma  which  our  theologians  think  so 
obviously  true  ; nor  will  acceptance  of  it  be  made  easier  when  we  add  the 
description  of  the  conscientious  Santal,  who  “ never  thinks  of  making  money 
by  a stranger,”  and  “ feels  pained  if  payment  is  pressed  upon  him  ” for  food 
offered  j but  concerning  whom  we  are  told  that  “ of  a supreme  and  beneficent 
God  the  Santal  has  no  conception.”  Admission  of  the  doctrine  that  right 
conduct  depends  on  theological  conviction,  becomes  difficult  on  reading  that 
the  Yeddahs  who  are  “ almost  devoid  of  any  sentiment  of  religion  ” and  have 
no  idea  “ of  a Supreme  Being,”  nevertheless  “ think  it  perfectly  inconceivable 
that  any  person  should  ever  take  that  which  does  not  belong  to  him,  or 
strike  his  fellow,  or  say  anything  that  is  untrue.”  After  finding  that  among 
the  select  of  the  select  who  profess  our  established  creed,  the  standard  of 
truthfulness  is  such  that  the  statement  of  a minister  concerning  cabinet 
transactions  is  distinctly  falsified  by  the  statement  of  a seceding  minister  ; 
and  after  then  recalling  the  marvellous  veracity  of  these  godless  Bodo  and 
Dhimals,  Lepchas,  and  other  peaceful  tribes  having  kindred  beliefs,  going  to 
such  extent  that  an  imputation  of  falsehood  is  enough  to  make  one  of  the 
Hos  destroy  himself ; we  fail  to  see  that  in  the  absence  of  a tlieistic  belief 
there  can  be  no  regard  for  truth.  When,  in  a weekly  journal  specially  repre- 
senting the  university  culture  shared  in  by  our  priests,  we  find  a lament  over 
the  moral  degradation  shown  by  our  treatment  of  the  Boers — when  we  are 
held  degraded  because  we  have  not  slaughtered  them  for  successfully  resist- 
ing our  trespasses — when  we  see  that  the  “ sacred  duty  of  blood  revenge,” 
which  the  cannibal  savage  insists  upon,  is  insisted  upon  by  those  to  whom 
the  Christian  religion  was  daily  taught  throughout  their  education ; and 
when,  from  contemplating  this  fact,  we  pass  to  the  fact  that  the  unreligious 
Lepchas  “ are  singularly  forgiving  of  injuries,”  the  assumed  relation  between 
humanity  and  theism  appears  anything  but  congruous  with  the  evidence.  If, 
with  the  ambitions  of  our  church-going  citizens,  who  (not  always  in  very 
honourable  ways)  strive  to  get  fortunes  that  they  may  make  great  displays, 
and  gratify  themselves  by  thinking  that  at  death  they  will  “ cut  up  well,”  we 
compare  the  ambitions  of  the  Arafuras,  among  whom  wealth  is  desired  that 


642 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


its  possessor  may  pay  tlie  debts  of  poorer  men  and  settle  differences,  we  are 
obliged  to  reject  the  assumption  that  “ brotherly  love  ” can  exist  only  as  a 
consequence  of  divine  injunctions,  with  promised  rewards  and  threatened 
punishments ; for  of  these  Araf uras  we  read  that — 

“ Of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  they  have  not  the  least  conception.  To 
all  my  enquiries  on  the  subject  they  answered,  ‘No  Arafura  has  ever  returned 
to  us  after  death,  therefore  we  know  nothing  of  a future  state,  and  this  is 
the  first  time  we  have  heard  of  it.*  Their  idea  was,  when  you  are  dead 
there  is  an  end  of  you.  Neither  have  they  any  notion  of  the  creation  of  the 
world.  They  only  answered,  ‘ None  of  us  were  aware  of  this,  we  have  never 
heard  anything  about  it,  and  therefore  do  not  know  who  has  done  it  all.’  ” 
The  truth  disclosed  by  the  facts  is  that,  so  far  as  men’s  moral  states  are  con- 
cerned, theory  is  almost  nothing  and  practice  is  almost  everything.  No 
matter  how  high  their  nominal  creed,  nations  given  to  political  burglaries  to 
get  “ scientific  frontiers,”  and  the  like,  will  have  among  their  members  many 
who  “ annex  ” others’  goods  for  their  own  convenience  ; and  with  the  orga- 
nized crime  of  aggressive  war,  will  go  criminality  in  the  behaviour  of  one 
citizen  to  another.  Conversely,  as  these  uncultivated  tribes  prove,  no  matter 
how  devoid  they  are  of  religious  beliefs,  those  who,  generation  after  genera- 
tion remaining  unmolested,  inflict  no  injuries  upon  others,  have  their  altru- 
istic sentiments  fostered  by  the  sympathetic  intercourse  of  a peaceful  daily 
life,  and  display  the  resulting  virtues.  We  need  teaching  that  it  is  impossible 
to  join  injustice  and  brutality  abroad  with  justice  and  humanity  at  home. 
What  a pity  these  Heathens  cannot  be  induced  to  send  missionaries  among 
the  Christians ! 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 

§ 576.  In  the  foregoing  chapters  little  has  been  said 
concerning  the  doctrine  of  Evolution  at  large,  as  re-illus- 
trated by  political  evolution ; though  doubtless  the  observant 
reader  has  occasionally  noted  how  the  transformations  de- 
scribed conform  to  the  general  law  of  transformation.  Here, 
in  summing  up,  it  will  be  convenient  briefly  to  indicate  their 
conformity.  Already  in  Part  II,  when  treating  of  Social 
Growth,  Social  Structures,  and  Social  Functions,  the  outlines 
of  this  correspondence  were  exhibited ; but  the  materials  for 
exemplifying  it  in  a more  special  way,  which  have  been  brought 
together  in  this  Part,  may  fitly  be  utilized  to  emphasize  afresh 
a truth  not  yet  commonly  admitted. 

That  under  its  primary  aspect  political  development  is  a 
process  of  integration,  is  clear.  By  it  individuals  originally 
separate  are  united  into  a whole ; and  the  union  of  them  into 
a whole  is  variously  shown.  In  the  earliest  stages  the  groups 
of  men  are  small,  they  are  loose,  they  are  not  unified  by 
subordination  to  a centre.  But  with  political  progress  comes 
the  compounding,  re-compounding,  and  re-re-compounding  of 
groups  until  great  nations  are  produced.  Moreover,  with  that 
settled  life  and  agricultural  development  accompanying  poli- 
tical progress,  there  is  not  only  a formation  of  societies 
covering  wider  areas,  but  an  increasing  density  of  their  popu- 
lations. Further,  the  loose  aggregation  of  savages  passes  into 


644 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  coherent  connexion  of  citizens ; at  one  stage  coercively 
bound  to  one  another  and  to  their  localities  by  family-ties  and 
class-ties,  and  at  a later  stage  voluntarily  bound  together  by 
their  mutually-dependent  occupations.  Once  more,  there  is 
that  merging  of  individual  wills  in  a governmental  will,  which 
reduces  a society,  as  it  reduces  an  army,  to  a consolidated 
body. 

An  increase  of  heterogeneity  at  the  same  time  goes  on  in 
many  ways.  Everywhere  the  horde,  when  its  members  co- 
operate for  defence  or  offence,  begins  to  differentiate  into  a 
predominant  man,  a superior  few,  and  an  inferior  many. 
With  that  massing  of  groups  which  war  effects,  there  grow 
out  of  these,  head  chief,  subordinate  chiefs,  and  warriors; 
and  at  higher  stages  of  integration,  kings,  nobles,  and  people : 
each  of  the  two  great  social  strata  presently  becoming  dif- 
ferentiated within  itself.  When  small  societies  have  been 
united,  the  respective  triune  governing  agencies  of  them  grow 
unlike : the  local  political  assemblies  falling  into  subordina- 
tion to  a central  political  assembly.  Though,  for  a time,  the 
central  one  continues  to  be  constituted  after  the  same  manner 
as  the  local  ones,  it  gradually  diverges  in  character  by  loss 
of  its  popular  element.  While  these  local  and  central  bodies 
are  becoming  contrasted  in  their  powers  and  structures,  they 
are  severally  becoming  differentiated  in  another  way.  Origi- 
nally each  is  at  once  military,  political,  and  judicial;  but 
by  and  by  the  assembly  for  judicial  business,  no  longer  armed, 
ceases  to  be  like  the  politico-military  assembly;  and  the 
politico-military  assembly  eventually  gives  origin  to  a con- 
sultative body,  the  members  of  which,  when  meeting  for 
political  deliberation,  come  unarmed.  Within  each  of  these 
divisions,  again,  kindred  changes  subsequently  occur.  While 
themselves  assuming  more  specialized  forms,  local  judicial 
agencies  fall  under  the  control  of  a central  judicial  agency ; 
and  the  central  judicial  agency,  which  has  separated  from  the 
original  consultative  body,  subdivides  into  parts  or  courts 
which  take  unlike  kinds  of  business.  The  central  political 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


645 


body,  too,  where  its  powers  do  not  disappear  by  absorption  in 
those  of  the  supreme  head,  tends  to  complicate;  as  in  our 
own  case  by  the  differentiation  of  a privy  council  from  the 
original  consultative  body,  and  again  by  the  differentiation  of 
a cabinet  from  the  privy  council : accompanied,  in  the  other 
direction,  by  division  of  the  consultative  body  into  elective  and 
non-elective  parts.  While  these  metamorphoses  are  going  on, 
the  separation  of  the  three  organizations,  legislative,  judicial, 
and  executive,  progresses.  Moreover,  with  progress  in  these 
major  political  changes  goes  that  progress  in  minor  political 
changes  which,  out  of  family-governments  and  clan-govern- 
ments, evolves  such  governments  as  those  of  the  tything,  the 
gild,  and  the  municipality.  Thus  in  all  directions  from 
primitive  simplicity  there  is  produced  ultimate  complexity, 
through  modifications  upon  modifications. 

With  this  advance  from  small  incoherent  social  aggre- 
gates to  great  coherent  ones,  which,  while  becoming  integrated 
pass  from  uniformity  to  multiformity,  there  goes  an  advance 
from  indefiniteness  of  political  organization  to  definiteness 
of  political  organization.  Save  inherited  ideas  and  usages, 
nothing  is  fixed  in  the  primitive  horde.  But  the  dif- 
ferentiations above  described,  severally  beginning  vaguely, 
grow  in  their  turns  gradually  more  marked.  Class-divisions, 
absent  at  first  and  afterwards  undecided,  eventually  acquire 
great  distinctness : slaves,  serfs,  freemen,  nobles,  king,  become 
separated,  often  by  impassable  barriers,  and  their  positions 
shown  by  mutilations,  badges,  dresses,  &c.  Powers  and  obli- 
gations which  were  once  diffused  are  parted  off  and  rigorously 
maintained.  The  various  parts  of  the  political  machinery  come 
to  be  severally  more  and  more  restricted  in  their  ranges  of 
duties ; and  usage,  age  by  age  accumulating  precedents,  brings 
every  kind  of  official  action  within  prescribed  bounds.  This 
increase  of  definiteness  is  everywhere  well  shown  by  the 
development  of  laws.  Beginning  as  inherited  sacred  injunc- 
tions briefly  expressed,  these  have  to  be  applied  after  some 
prescribed  method,  and  their  meanings  in  relation  to  par- 


646 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


ticular  cases  made  clear.  Rules  of  procedure  become  step 
by  step  detailed  and  formal,  while  interpretations  change 
the  general  command  into  specialized  commands  to  meet 
incidental  circumstances;  and  gradually  there  grows  up  a 
legal  system  everywhere  precise  and  fixed.  How  pronounced 
is  this  tendency  is  interestingly  shown  in  our  system  of 
Equity,  which,  arising  to  qualify  the  unduly  defined  and 
rigid  applications  of  Law,  itself  slowly  multiplied  its  tech- 
nicalities until  it  grew  equally  defined  and  rigid. 

To  meet  an  obvious  criticism  it  must  be  added  that  these 
changes  from  societies  which  are  small,  loose,  uniform,  and 
vague  in  structure,  to  societies  which  are  large,  compact, 
multiform,  and  distinct  in  structure,  present  varieties  of 
characters  under  varieties  of  conditions,  and  alter  as  the 
conditions  alter.  Different  parts  of  a society  display  the 
transformation,  according  as  the  society’s  activities  are  of 
one  or  other  kind.  Chronic  war  generates  a compulsory 
cohesion,  and  produces  an  ever-greater  heterogeneity  and  defi- 
niteness in  that  controlling  organization  by  which  unity  of 
action  is  secured ; while  that  part  of  the  organization  which 
carries  on  production  and  distribution,  exhibits  these  traits  of 
evolution  in  a relatively  small  degree.  Conversely,  when 
joint  action  of  the  society  against  other  societies  decreases, 
the  traits  of  the  structure  developed  for  carrying  it  on  begin 
to  fade ; while  the  traits  of  the  structure  for  carrying  on  pro- 
duction and  distribution  become  more  decided : the  increasing 
cohesion,  heterogeneity,  and  definiteness,  begin  now  to  be 
shown  throughout  the  industrial  organization.  Hence  the 
phenomena  become  complicated  by  a simultaneous  evolution 
of  one  part  of  the  social  organization  and  dissolution  of 
another  part — a mingling  of  changes  well  illustrated  in  our 
own  society. 

§ 577.  With  this  general  conception  before  us,  which, 
without  more  detailed  recapitulation  of  the  conclusions 
reached,  will  sufficiently  recall  them,  we  may  turn  from 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT.  647 

retrospect  to  prospect ; and  ask  through  what  phases  political 
evolution  is  likely  hereafter  to  pass. 

Such  speculations  concerning  higher  political  types  as  we 
may  allow  ourselves,  must  be  taken  with  the  understanding 
that  such  types  are  not  likely  to  become  universal.  As  in  the 
past  so  in  the  future,  local  circumstances  must  be  influential 
in  determining  governmental  arrangements;  since  these 
depend  in  large  measure  on  the  modes  of  life  which  the 
climate,  soil,  flora,  and  fauna,  necessitate.  In  regions  like 
those  of  Central  Asia,  incapable  of  supporting  considerable 
populations,  there  are  likely  to  survive  wandering  hordes 
under  simple  forms  of  control.  Large  areas  such  as  parts  of 
Africa  present,  which  prove  fatal  to  the  higher  races  of  men, 
and  the  steaming  atmospheres  of  which  cause  enervation, 
may  continue  to  be  inhabited  by  lower  races  of  men,  subject 
to  political  arrangements  adapted  to  them.  And  in  con- 
ditions such  as  those  furnished  by  small  Pacific  Islands,  mere 
deficiency  of  numbers  must  negative  the  forms  of  government 
which  become  alike  needful  and  possible  in  large  nations. 
Recognizing  the  fact  that  with  social  organisms  as  with  indi- 
vidual organisms,  the  evolution  of  superior  types  does  not 
entail  the  extinction  of  all  inferior  ones,  but  leaves  many  of 
these  to  survive  in  habitats  not  available  by  the  superior,  we 
may  here  restrict  ourselves  to  the  inquiry — What  are  likely  to 
be  the  forms  of  political  organization  and  action  in  societies 
that  are  favourably  circumstanced  for  carrying  social  evolu- 
tion to  its  highest  stage  ? 

Of  course  deductions  respecting  the  future  must  be  drawn 
from  inductions  furnished  by  the  past.  We  must  assume 
that  hereafter  social  evolution  will  conform  to  the  same 
principles  as  heretofore.  Causes  which  have  everywhere 
produced  certain  effects  must,  if  they  continue  at  work,  be 
expected  to  produce  further  effects  of  like  kinds.  If  we  see 
that  political  transformations  which  have  arisen  under  cer- 
tain conditions,  admit  of  being  carried  further  in  the  same 
directions,  we  must  conclude  that  they  will  be  carried  further 


648 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


if  the  conditions  are  maintained ; and  that  they  will  go  on 
until  they  reach  limits  beyond  which  there  is  no  scope  for 
them. 

Not  indeed  that  any  trustworthy  forecast  can  be  made 
concerning  proximate  changes.  All  that  has  gone  before 
unites  to  prove  that  political  institutions,  fundamentally 
determined  in  their  forms  by  the  predominance  of  one  or 
other  of  the  antagonist  modes  of  social  action,  the  militant 
and  the  industrial,  will  be  moulded  in  this  way  or  in  that  way 
according  as  there  is  frequent  wTar  or  habitual  peace.  Hence 
we  must  infer  that  throughout  approaching  periods,  every- 
thing will  depend  on  the  courses  which  societies  happen  to 
take  in  their  behaviour  to  one  another — courses  wThich  cannot 
be  predicted.  On  the  one  hand,  in  the  present  state  of  armed 
preparation  throughout  Europe,  an  untoward  accident  may 
bring  about  wars  which,  lasting  perhaps  for  a generation,  will 
re-develop  the  coercive  forms  of  political  control.  On  the 
other  hand,  a long  peace  is  likely  to  be  accompanied  by  so 
vast  an  increase  of  manufacturing  and  commercial  activity, 
with  accompanying  growth  of  the  appropriate  political  struc- 
tures within  each  nation,  and  strengthening  of  those  ties 
between  nations  which  mutual  dependence  generates,  that 
hostilities  will  be  more  and  more  resisted  and  the  organization 
adapted  for  the  carrying  them  on  will  decay. 

Leaving,  however,  the  question — What  are  likely  to  be  the 
proximate  political  changes  in  the  most  advanced  nations  ? 
and  inferring  from  the  changes  which  civilization  has  thus  far 
wrought  out,  that  at  some  time,  more  or  less  distant,  the 
industrial  type  will  become  permanently  established,  let  us 
now  ask — What  is  to  be  the  ultimate  political  regime  ? 

§ 578.  Having  so  recently  contemplated  at  length  the 
political  traits  of  the  industrial  type  as  inferable  a priori , and 
as  partially  exemplified  a posteriori  in  societies  most  favour- 
ably circumstanced  for  evolving  them,  there  remains  only  to 
present  these  under  a united  and  more  concrete  form,  wfith 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


649 


some  dependent  ones  which  have  not  been  indicated.  We 
will  glance  first  at  the  implied  political  structures,  and  next 
at  the  implied  political  functions. 

What  forms  of  governmental  organization  must  be  the  out- 
come of  voluntary  cooperation  carried  to  its  limit  ? We  have 
already  seen  that  in  the  absence  of  those  appliances  for 
coercion  which  accompany  the  militant  type,  whatever  legis- 
lative and  administrative  structures  exist,  must  be,  in  general 
and  in  detail,  of  directly  or  indirectly  representative  origin. 
The  presence  in  them  of  functionaries  not  deriving  their 
powers  from  the  aggregate  will,  and  not  changeable  by  the 
aggregate  will,  would  imply  partial  continuance  of  that  regime 
of  status  which  the  regime  of  contract  has,  by  the  hypothesis, 
entirely  replaced.  But  assuming  the  exclusion  of  all  irre- 
sponsible agents,  what  particular  structures  will  best  serve 
to  manifest  and  execute  the  aggregate  will  ? This  is  a 
question  to  which  only  approximate  answers  can  be  given. 
There  are  various  possible  organizations  through  which  the 
general  consensus  of  feeling  and  opinion  may  display  itself 
and  issue  in  action ; and  it  is  very  much  a question  of  con- 
venience, rather  than  of  principle,  which  of  these  shall  be 
adopted.  Let  us  consider  some  of  their  varieties. 

The  representatives  constituting  the  central  legislature 
may  form  one  body  or  they  may  form  two.  If  there  is  but 
one,  it  may  consist  of  men  directly  elected  by  all  qualified 
citizens;  or  its  members  may  be  elected  by  local  bodies  which 
have  themselves  arisen  by  direct  election ; or  it  may  include 
members  some  of  whom  are  elected  in  the  one  way  and  some 
in  the  other.  If  there  are  two  chambers,  the  lower  one  may 
arise  in  the  first  of  the  three  ways  named ; while  the  second 
arises  in  one  of  several  ways.  It  may  consist  of  members 
chosen  by  local  representative  bodies ; or  it  may  be  chosen 
by  the  lower  chamber  out  of  its  own  number.  Its  members 
may  either  have  no  test  of  eligibility,  or  they  may  be  required 
to  have  special  qualifications  : experience  in  administration, 
for  example.  Then  besides  these  various  forms  of  the 


650 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


legislature,  there  are  the  various  modes  in  which  it  may  be 
partially  or  wholly  replaced.  Entire  dissolution  and  re- 
election  of  one  body  or  of  both  bodies  may  occur  at  intervals, 
either  the  same  for  the  two  or  different  for  the  two,  and  either 
simultaneously  or  otherwise ; or  the  higher  body,  though 
representative,  may  be  permanent,  while  the  lower  is  change- 
able; or  the  changing  of  one  or  both,  at  given  intervals, 
may  be  partial  instead  of  complete — a third  or  a fourth 
may  vacate  their  seats  annually  or  biennially,  and  may  or 
may  not  be  eligible  for  re-election.  So,  too,  there  are 

various  modes  by  which  the  executive  may  originate  con- 
sistently with  the  representative  principle.  It  may  be  simple 
or  it  may  be  compound ; and  if  compound,  the  members  of  it 
may  be  changeable  separately  or  altogether.  The  political 
head  may  be  elected  directly  by  the  whole  community,  or  by 
its  local  governing  bodies,  or  by  one  or  by  both  of  its  central 
representative  bodies ; and  may  be  so  elected  for  a term  or 
for  life.  His  assistants  or  ministers  may  be  chosen  by  him- 
self ; or  he  may  choose  one  who  chooses  the  rest ; or  they 
may  be  chosen  separately  or  bodily  by  one  or  other  legis- 
lature, or  by  the  two  united.  And  the  members  of  the 
ministry  may  compose  a group  apart  from  both  chambers,  or 
may  be  members  of  one  or  the  other. 

Concerning  these,  and  many  other  possible  arrangements 
which  may  be  conceived  as  arising  by  modification  and  com- 
plication of  them  (all  apparently  congruous  with  the  require- 
ment that  the  making  and  administration  of  laws  shall  con- 
form to  public  opinion)  the  choice  is  to  be  guided  mainly  by 
regard  for  simplicity  and  facility  of  working.  But  it  seems 
likely  that  hereafter,  as  heretofore,  the  details  of  constitutional 
forms  in  each  society,  will  not  be  determined  on  d 'priori 
grounds,  or  will  be  but  partially  so  determined.  We  may 
conclude  that  they  will  be  determined  in  large  measure  by 
the  antecedents  of  the  society ; and  that  between  societies  of 
the  industrial  type,  there  will  be  differences  of  political 
organization  consequent  on  genealogical  differences.  Recog- 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


G51 


nizing  tlie  analogies  furnished  by  individual  organizations, 
which  everywhere  show  us  that  structures  evolved  during 
the  earlier  stages  of  a type  for  functions  then  requisite, 
usually  do  not  disappear  at  later  stages,  but  become  re- 
moulded in  adaptation  to  functions  more  or  less  different; 
we  may  suspect  that  the  political  institutions  appropriate  to 
the  industrial  type,  will,  in  each  society,  continue  to  bear 
traces  of  the  earlier  political  institutions  evolved  for  other 
purposes  ; as  we  see  that  even  now  the  new  societies  growing 
up  in  colonies,  tend  thus  to  preserve  marks  of  earlier  stages 
passed  through  by  ancestral  societies.  Hence  we  may  infer 
that  societies  which,  in  the  future,  have  alike  become  com- 
pletely industrial,  will  not  present  identical  political  forms ; 
but  that  to  the  various  possible  forms  appropriate  to  the  type, 
they  will  present  approximations  determined  partly  by  their 
own  structures  in  the  past  and  partly  by  the  structures  of 
the  societies  from  which  they  have  been  derived.  Eecognizing 
this  probability,  let  us  now  ask  by  what  changes  our  own 
political  constitution  may  be  brought  into  congruity  with 
the  requirements. 

Though  there  are  some  who  contend  that  a single  body  of 
representatives  is  sufficient  for  the  legislative  needs  of  a 
free  nation,  yet  the  reasons  above  given  warrant  the  suspicion 
that  the  habitual  duality  of  legislatures,  of  which  the  rudi- 
ments are  traceable  in  the  earliest  political  differentiation,  is 
not  likely  to  be  entirely  lost  in  the  future.  That  spontaneous 
division  of  the  primitive  group  into  the  distinguished  few  and 
the  undistinguished  many,  both  of  which  take  part  in  deter- 
mining the  actions  of  the  group — that  division  which,  with 
reviving  power  of  the  undistinguished  many,  reappears  when 
there  is  formed  a body  representing  it,  which  cooperates  with 
the  body  formed  of  the  distinguished  few  in  deciding  on 
national  affairs,  appears  likely  to  continue.  Assuming  that 
as  a matter  of  course  two  legislative  bodies,  if  they  exist 
hereafter,  must  both  arise  by  representation,  direct  or  indirect, 
it  seems  probable  that  an  upper  and  a lqwer  chamber  may 
19 


652 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


continue  to  display  a contrast  in  some  degree  analogous  to 
that  which  they  have  displayed  thus  far.  For  however  great 
the  degree  of  evolution  reached  by  an  industrial  society,  it 
cannot  abolish  the  distinction  between  the  superior  and  the 
inferior —the  regulators  and  the  regulated.  Whatever  ar- 
rangements for  carrying  on  industry  may  in  times  to  come  be 
established,  must  leave  outstanding  the  difference  between 
those  whose  characters  and  abilities  raise  them  to  the  higher 
positions,  and  those  who  remain  in  the  lower.  Even  should 
all  kinds  of  production  and  distribution  be  eventually  carried 
on  by  bodies  of  cooperators,  as  a few  are  now  to  some  extent, 
such  bodies  must  still  have  their  appointed  heads  and  com- 
mittees of  managers.  Either  from  an  electorate  constituted 
not,  of  course,  of  a permanently-privileged  class,  but  of  a 
class  including  all  heads  of  industrial  organizations,  or  from 
an  electorate  otherwise  composed  of  all  persons  occupied  in 
administration,  a senate  may  perhaps  eventually  be  formed 
consisting  of  the  representatives  of  directing  persons  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  representatives  of  persons  directed.  Of 
course  in  the  general  government,  as  in  the  government  of 
each  industrial  body,  the  representatives  of  the  class  regu- 
lated must  be  ultimately  supreme ; but  there  is  reason  for 
thinking  that  the  representatives  of  the  regulating  class 
might  with  advantage  exercise  a restraining  power.  Evidently 
the  aspect  of  any  law' differs  according  as  it  is  looked  at  from 
above  or  from  below — by  those  accustomed  to  rule  or  by 
those  accustomed  to  be  ruled.  The  two  aspects  require  to  be 
coordinated.  Without  assuming  that  differences  between  the 
interests  of  these  bodies  will,  to  the  last,  make  needful  dif- 
ferent representations  of  them,  it  may  reasonably  be  con- 
cluded that  the  higher,  experienced  in  administration,  may 
with  advantage  bring  its  judgments  to  bear  in  qualifying  the 
judgments  of  the  lower,  less  conversant  with  affairs ; and  that 
social  needs  are  likely  to  be  most  effectually  met  by  laws 
issuing  from  their  joint  deliberations.  Far  from  suggesting 
an  ultimate  unification  of  the  two  legislative  bodies,  the  facts 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


653 


of  evolution,  everywhere  showing  advance  in  specialization, 
suggest  rather  that  one  or  both  of  such  two  bodies,  now 
characterizing  developed  political  organizations,  will  further 
differentiate.  Indeed  we  have  at  the  present  moment  indi- 
cations that  such  a change  is  likely  to  take  place  in  our 
own  House  of  Commons.  To  the  objection  that  the  duality 
of  a legislative  body  impedes  the  making  of  laws,  the  reply 
is  that  a considerable  amount  of  hindrance  to  change  is 
desirable.  Even  as  it  is  now  among  ourselves,  immense  mis- 
chiefs are  done  by  ill-considered  legislation ; and  any  change 
which  should  further  facilitate  legislation  would  increase 
such  mischiefs. 

Concerning  the  ultimate  executive  agency,  it  appears  to  be! 
an  unavoidable  inference  that  it  must  become,  in  some  way 
or  other,  elective ; since  hereditary  political  headship  is  a 
trait  of  the  developed  militant  type,  and  forms  a part  of  that 
regime  of  status  which  is  excluded  by  the  hypothesis. 
Guided  by  such  evidence  as  existing  advanced  societies 
afford  us,  we  may  infer  that  the  highest  State-office,  in  what- 
ever way  filled,  will  continue  to  decline  in  importance ; and 
that  the  functions  to  be  discharged  by  its  occupant  will 
become  more  and  more  automatic.  There  requires  an  instru- 
mentality having  certain  traits  which  we  see  in  our  own 
executive,  joined  with  certain  traits  which  we  see  in  the 
executive  of  the  United  States.  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  need- 
ful that  the  men  who  have  to  carry  out  the  will  of  the 
majority  as  expressed  through  the  legislature,  should  be 
removable  at  pleasure ; so  that  there  may  be  maintained  the 
needful  subordination  of  their  policy  to  public  opinion.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  needful  that  displacement  of  them  shall 
leave  intact  all  that  part  of  the  executive  organization  re- 
quired for  current  administrative  purposes.  In  our  own  case 
these  requirements,  fulfilled  to  a considerable  extent,  fall  short 
of  complete  fulfilment  in  the  respect  that  the  political  head 
is  not  elective,  and  still  exercises,  especially  over  the  foreign 
policy  of  the  nation,  a considerable  amount  of  power,  In 


654 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


the  United  States,  while  these  requirements  are  fulfilled  in 
the  respect  that  the  political  head  is  elective,  and  cannot 
compromize  the  nation  in  its  actions  towards  other  nations, 
they  are  not  fulfilled  in  the  respect  that  far  from  being  an 
automatic  centre,  having  actions  restrained  by  a ministry 
responsive  to  public  opinion,  he  exercises,  during  his  term  of 
office,  much  independent  control.  Possibly  in  the  future,  the 
benefits  of  these  two  systems  may  be  united  and  their  evils 
avoided.  The  strong  party  antagonisms  which  accompany 
our  state  of  transition  having  died  away,  and  the  place  of 
supreme  State-officer  having  become  one  of  honour  rather 
than  one  of  power,  it  may  happen  that  appointment  to  this 
place,  made  during  the  closing  years  of  a great  career  to 
mark  the  nation’s  approbation,  will  be  made  without  any 
social  perturbation,  because  without  any  effect  on  policy; 
and  that,  meanwhile,  such  changes  in  the  executive  agency 
as  are  needful  to  harmonize  its  actions  with  public  opinion, 
will  be,  as  at  present  among  ourselves,  changes  of  minis- 
tries. 

Rightly  to  conceive  the  natures  and  workings  of  the  central 
political  institutions  appropriate  to  the  industrial  type,  we 
must  assume  that  along  with  the  establishment  of  them  there 
has  gone  that  change  just  named  in  passing — the  decline  of 
party  antagonisms.  Looked  at  broadly,  political  parties  are 
seen  to  arise  directly  or  indirectly  out  of  the  conflict  between 
militancy  and  industrialism.  Either  they  stand  respectively  for 
the  coercive  government  of  the  one  and  the  free  government 
of  the  other,  or  for  particular  institutions  and  laws  belonging 
to  the  one  or  the  other,  or  for  religious  opinions  and  organiza- 
tions congruous  with  the  one  or  the  other,  or  for  principles 
and  practices  that  have  been  bequeathed  by  the  one  or  the 
other,  and  survived  under  alien  conditions.  Habitually  if  we 
trace  party  feeling  to  its  sources,  we  find  on  the  one  side 
maintenance  of,  and  on  the  other  opposition  to,  some  form  of 
inequity.  Wrong  is  habitually  alleged  by  this  side  against 
that ; and  there  must  be  injustice  either  in  the  thing  done  or 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


655 


in  the  allegation  concerning  it.  Hence  as  fast  as  the  regime 
of  voluntary  cooperation  with  its  appropriate  ideas,  senti- 
ments, and  usages,  pervades  the  whole  society — as  fast  as 
there  disappear  all  those  arrangements  which  in  any  way 
trench  upon  the  equal  freedom  of  these  or  those  citizens, 
party  warfare  must  practically  die  away.  Such  differences 
of  opinion  only  can  remain  as  concern  matters  of  detail  and 
minor  questions  of  administration.  Evidently  there  is 
approach  to  such  a state  in  proportion  as  the  graver  injus- 
tices descending  from  the  militant  type  disappear.  Evidently, 
too,  one  concomitant  is  that  increasing  subdivision  of  parties 
commonly  lamented,  which  promises  to  bring  about  the 
result  that  no  course  can  be  taken  at  the  dictation  of  any  one 
moiety  in  power ; but  every  course  taken,  having  the  assent  of 
the  average  of  parties,  will  be  thereby  proved  in  harmony 
witli  the  aggregate  will  of  the  community.  And  clearly,  with 
this  breaking  up  of  parties  consequent  on  growing  indivi- 
duality of  nature,  all  such  party-antagonisms  as  we  now 
know  must  cease. 

Concerning  local  government  we  may  conclude  that  as 
centralization  is  an  essential  trait  of  the  militant  type,  de- 
centralization is  an  essential  trait  of  the  industrial  type. 
With  that  independence  which  the  regime  of  voluntary 
cooperation  generates,  there  arises  resistance  not  only  to 
dictation  by  one  man,  and  to  dictation  by  a class,  but  even  to 
dictation  by  a majority,  when  it  restrains  individual  action 
in  ways  not  necessary  for  maintaining  harmonious  social 
relations.  One  result  must  be  that  the  inhabitants  of  each 
locality  will  object  to  be  controlled  by  the  inhabitants  of 
other  localities,  in  matters  of  purely  local  concern.  In  respect 
of  such  laws  as  equally  apply  to  all  individuals,  and  such 
laws  as  affect  the  inhabitants  of  each  locality  in  their 
intercourse  with  those  of  other  localities,  the  will  of  the 
majority  of  the  community  will  be  recognized  as  authorita- 
tive; but  in  respect  of  arrangements  not  affecting  the  com- 
munity at  large,  but  affecting  only  the  members  forming  one 


656 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


part,  we  may  infer  that  there  will  arise  such  tendency  to 
resist  dictation  by  members  of  other  parts,  as  will  involve 
the  carrying  of  local  rule  to  the  greatest  practicable  limit. 
Municipal  and  kindred  governments  may  be  expected  to 
exercise  legislative  and  administrative  powers,  subject  to  no 
greater  control  by  the  central  government  than  is  needful  for 
the  concord  of  the  whole  community. 

Neither  these  nor  any  other  speculations  concerning  ulti- 
mate political  forms  can,  however,  be  regarded  as  anything 
more  than  tentative.  They  are  ventured  here  simply  as 
foreshadowing  the  general  nature  of  the  changes  to  be  anti- 
cipated ; and  in  so  far  as  they  are  specific,  can  be  at  the  best 
but  partially  right.  We  may  be  sure  that  the  future  will 
bring  unforeseen  political  arrangements  along  with  many 
other  unforeseen  things.  As  already  implied,  there  will  pro- 
bably be  considerable  variety  in  the  special  forms  of  the 
political  institutions  of  industrial  societies : all  of  them 
bearing  traces  of  past  institutions  which  have  been  brought 
into  congruity  with  the  representative  principle.  And  here 
I may  add  that  little  stress  need  be  laid  on  one  or  other 
speciality  of  form ; since,  given  citizens  having  the  pre- 
supposed appropriate  natures,  and  but  small  differences  in 
the  ultimate  effects  will  result  from  differences  in  the 
machinery  used. 

§ 579.  Somewhat  more  definitely,  and  with  somewhat 
greater  positiveness,  may  we,  I think,  infer  the  political 
functions  carried  on  by  those  political  structures  proper  to 
the  developed  industrial  type.  Already  these  have  been 
generally  indicated ; but  here  they  must  be  indicated  some- 
what more  specifically. 

We  have  seen  that  when  corporate  action  is  no  longer 
needed  for  preserving  the  society  as  a whole  from  destruction 
or  injury  by  other  societies,  the  end  which  remains  for  it  is 
that  of  preserving  the  component  members  of  the  society 
from  destruction  or  injury  by  one  another:  injury,  as  here 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


657 


interpreted,  including  not  only  immediate,  but  also  remote, 
breaches  of  equity.  Citizens  whose  natures  have  through 
many  generations  of  voluntary  cooperation  and  accompanying 
regard  for  one  another’s  claims,  been  moulded  into  the  appro- 
priate form,  will  entirely  agree  to  maintain  such  political 
institutions  as  may  continue  needful  for  insuring  to  each  that 
the  activities  he  carries  on  within  limits  imposed  by  the 
activities  of  others,  shall  bring  to  him  all  the  directly-resulting 
benefits,  or  such  benefits  as  indirectly  result  under  voluntary 
agreements ; and  each  will  be  ready  to  yield  up  such  small 
portion  of  the  proceeds  of  his  labour,  as  may  be  required  to 
maintain  the  agency  for  adjudicating  in  complex  cases  where 
the  equitable  course  is  not  manifest,  and  for  such  legislative 
and  administrative  purposes  as  may  prove  needful  for 
effecting  an  equitable  division  of  all  natural  advantages. 
Resistance  to  extension  of  government  beyond  the  sphere 
thus  indicated,  must  eventually  have  a two-fold  origin — 
egoistic  and  altruistic. 

In  the  first  place,  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  citizens 
having  the  characters  indicated,  wTill,  in  their  corporate 
capacity,  agree  to  impose  on  themselves  individually,  other 
restraints  than  those  necessitated  by  regard  for  one  another’s 
spheres  of  action.  Each  has  had  fostered  in  him  by  the  dis- 
cipline of  daily  life  carried  on  under  contract,  a sentiment 
prompting  assertion  of  his  claim  to  free  action  within  the 
implied  limits ; and  there  cannot  therefore  arise  in  an  aggre- 
gate of  such,  any  sentiment  which  would  tolerate  further 
limits.  And  that  any  part  should  impose  such  further  limits 
on  the  rest,  is  also  contrary  to  the  hypothesis ; since  it  pre- 
supposes that  political  inequality,  or  status,  which  is  excluded 
by  the  industrial  type.  Moreover,  it  is  manifest  that  the 
taking  from  citizens  of  funds  for  public  purposes  other  than 
those  above  specified,  is  negatived.  For  while  there  will 
ever  be  a unanimous  desire  to  maintain  for  each  and  all  the 
conditions  needful  for  severally  carrying  on  their  private 
activities  and  enjoying  the  products,  the  probabilities  are 


658 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


immense  against  agreement  for  any  other  public  end.  And 
in  the  absence  of  such  agreement,  there  must  arise  resistance 
by  the  dissentients  to  the  costs  and  administrative  restraints 
required  for  achieving  such  other  end.  There  must  be  dis- 
satisfaction and  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  minority  from 
whom  certain  returns  of  their  labours  are  taken,  not  for 
fulfilling  their  own  desires,  but  for  fulfilling  the  desires  of 
others.  There  must  be  an  inequality  of  treatment  which 
does  not  consist  with  the  rigime  of  voluntary  cooperation 
fully  carried  out. 

At  the  same  time  that  the  employment  of  political  agencies 
for  other  ends  than  that  of  maintaining  equitable  relations 
among  citizens,  will  meet  with  egoistic  resistance  from  a 
minority  who  do  not  desire  such  other  ends,  it  will  also  meet 
with  altruistic  resistance  from  the  rest.  In  other  words, 
the  altruism  of  the  rest  wull  prevent  them  from  achieving 
such  further  ends  for  their  own  satisfaction,  at  the  cost  of 
dissatisfaction  to  those  who  do  not  agree  with  them.  To  one 
who  is  ruled  by  a predominant  sentiment  of  justice,  the 
thought  of  profiting  in  any  wTay,  direct  or  indirect,  at  the 
expense  of  another,  is  repugnant ; and  in  a community  of 
such,  none  will  desire  to  achieve  by  public  agency  at  the  cost 
of  all,  benefits  which  a part  do  not  participate  in,  or  do  not 
wish  for.  Given  in  all  citizens  a quick  sense  of  equity,  and 
it  must  happen,  for  example,  that  while  those  who  have  no 
children  will  protest  against  the  taking  away  of  their  pro- 
perty to  educate  the  children  of  others,  the  others  will  no 
less  protest  against  having  the  education  of  their  children 
partially  paid  for  by  forced  exactions  from  the  childless, 
from  the  unmarried,  and  from  those  whose  means  are  in 
many  cases  less  than  their  own.  So  that  the  eventual  limi- 
tation of  State-action  to  the  fundamental  one  described,  is 
insured  by  a simultaneous  increase  of  opposition  to  other 
actions  and  a decrease  of  desire  for  them. 

§ 580.  The  restricted  sphere  for  political  institutions  thus 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


659 


inferred  as  characterizing  the  developed  industrial  type,  may 
also  be  otherwise  inferred. 

Tor  this  limitation  of  State-functions  is  one  outcome  of 
that  process  of  specialization  of  functions  which  accompanies 
organic  and  super-organic  evolution  at  large.  Be  it  in  an 
animal  or  be  it  in  a society,  the  progress  of  organization  is 
constantly  shown  by  the  multiplication  of  particular  struc- 
tures adapted  to  particular  ends.  Everywhere  we  see  the 
law  to  be  that  a part  which  originally  served  several  pur- 
poses and  achieved  none  of  them  well,  becomes  divided  into 
parts  each  of  which  performs  one  of  the  purposes,  and, 
acquiring  specially-adapted  structures,  performs  it  better. 
Throughout  the  foregoing  chapters  we  have  seen  this  truth 
variously  illustrated  by  the  evolution  of  the  governmental 
organization  itself.  It  remains  here  to  point  out  that  it  is 
further  illustrated  in  a larger  way,  by  the  division  which  has 
arisen,  and  will  grow  ever  more  decided,  between  the  func- 
tions of  the  governmental  organization  as  a whole,  and  the 
functions  of  the  other  organizations  which  the  society  in- 
cludes. 

Already  we  have  seen  that  in  the  militant  type,  political 
control  extends  over  all  parts  of  the  lives  of  the  citizens. 
Already  we  have  seen  that  as  industrial  development  brings 
the  associated  political  changes,  the  range  of  this  control 
decreases  : ways  of  living  are  no  longer  dictated  ; dress  ceases 
to  be  prescribed ; the  rules  of  class-subordination  lose  their 
peremptoriness;  religious  beliefs  and  observances  are  not 
insisted  upon ; modes  of  cultivating  the  land  and  carrying  on 
manufactures  are  no  longer  fixed  by  law ; and  the  exchange 
of  commodities,  both  within  the  community  and  with  other 
communities,  becomes  gradually  unshackled.  That  is  to 
say,  as  industrialism  has  progressed,  the  State  has  re- 
treated from  the  greater  part  of  those  regulative  actions  it 
once  undertook.  This  change  has  gone  along  with  an  in- 
creasing opposition  of  citizens  to  these  various  kinds  of  con- 
trol, and  a decreasing  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  State  to 


660 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


exercise  them.  Unless  we  assume  that  the  end  has  now  been 
reached,  the  implication  is  that  with  future  progress  of  in- 
dustrialism, these  correlative  changes  will  continue.  Citizens 
will  carry  still  further  their  resistance  to  State-dictation ; 
while  the  tendency  to  State-dictation  will  diminish.  Though 
recently,  along  with  re-invigoration  of  militancy,  there  have 
gone  extensions  of  governmental  interference,  yet  this  is  in- 
terpretable  as  a temporary  wave  of  reaction.  We  may  expect 
that  with  the  ending  of  the  present  retrograde  movement  and 
resumption  of  unchecked  industrial  development,  that  in- 
creasing restriction  of  State-functions  which  has  unquestion- 
ably gone  on  during  the  later  stages  of  civilization,  will  be 
resumed ; and,  for  anything  that  appears  to  the  contrary, 
will  continue  until  there  is  reached  the  limit  above  indi- 
cated. 

Along  with  this  progressing  limitation  of  political  functions, 
has  gone  increasing  adaptation  of  political  agencies  to  the 
protecting  function,  and  better  discharge  of  it.  During 
unqualified  militancy,  while  the  preservation  of  the  society  as 
a whole  against  other  societies  was  the  dominant  need,  the 
preservation  of  the  individuals  forming  the  society  from 
destruction  or  injury  by  one  another,  was  little  cared  for ; and 
in  so  far  as  it  was  cared  for,  was  cared  for  mainly  out  of  re- 
gard for  the  strength  of  the  whole  society,  and  its  efficiency  v 
for  war.  But  those  same  changes  which  have  cut  off  so 
many  political  functions  at  that  time  exercised,  have  greatly 
developed  this  essential  and  permanent  political  function. 
There  has  been  a growing  efficiency  of  the  organization  for 
guarding  life  and  property ; due  to  an  increasing  demand  on 
the  part  of  citizens  that  their  safety  shall  be  insured,  and  an 
increasing  readiness  on  the  part  of  the  State  to  respond. 
Evidently  our  own  time,  with  its  extended  arrangements 
for  administering  justice,  and  its  growing  wish  for  codifi- 
cation of  the  law,  exhibits  a progress  in  this  direction ; which 
will  end  only  when  the  State  undertakes  to  administer 
civil  justice  to  the  citizen  free  of  cost,  as  it  now  undertakes. 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT.  661 

free  of  cost,  to  protect  his  person  and  punish  criminal  aggres- 
sion on  him. 

And  the  accompanying  conclusion  is  that  there  will  be 
simultaneously  carried  further  that  trait  which  already 
characterizes  the  most  industrially-organized  societies — the 
performance  of  increasingly-numerous  and  increasingly-im- 
portant  functions  by  other  organizations  than  those  which 
form  departments  of  the  government.  Already  in  our  own 
case  private  enterprise,  working  through  incorporated  bodies 
of  citizens,  achieves  ends  undreamed  of  as  so  achievable  in 
primitive  societies  ; and  in  the  future,  other  ends  undreamed 
of  now  as  so  achievable,  will  be  achieved. 

§ 581.  A corollary  having  important  practical  bearings 
may  be  drawn.  The  several  changes  making  up  the  trans- 
formation above  indicated,  are  normally  connected  in  their 
amounts  ; and  mischief  must  occur  if  the  due  proportions 
among  them  are  not  maintained.  There  is  a certain  right 
relation  to  one  another,  and  a right  relation  to  the  natures  of 
citizens,  which  may  not  be  disregarded  with  impunity. 

The  days  when  “ paper  constitutions  ” were  believed  in 
have  gone  by — if  not  with  all,  still  with  instructed  people. 
The  general  truth  that  the  characters  of  the  units  determine 
the  character  of  the  aggregate,  though  not  admitted  overtly 
and  fully,  is  yet  admitted  to  some  extent — to  the  extent  that 
most  politically-educated  persons  do  not  expect  forthwith 
completely  to  change  the  state  of  a society  by  this  or  that 
kind  of  legislation.  But  when  fully  admitted,  this  truth 
carries  with  it  the  conclusion  that  political  institutions  can- 
not be  effectually  modified  faster  than  the  characters  of 
citizens  are  modified ; and  that  if  greater  modifications  are  by 
any  accident  produced,  the  excess  of  change  is  sure  to  be 
undone  by  some  counter-change.  When,  as  in  France,  people 
undisciplined  in  freedom  are  suddenly  made  politically  free, 
they  show  by  some  plebiscite  that  they  willingly  deliver  over 
their  power  to  an  autocrat,  or  they  work  their  parliamentary 


662 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


system  in  such  way  as  to  make  a popular  statesman  into  a 
dictator.  When,  as  in  the  United  States,  republican  insti- 
tutions, instead  of  being  slowly  evolved,  are  all  at  once 
created,  there  grows  up  within  them  an  agency  of  wire- 
pulling politicians,  exercising  a real  rule  which  overrides  the 
nominal  rule  of  the  people  at  large.  When,  as  at  home,  an 
extended  franchise,  very  soon  re-extended,  vastly  augments 
the  mass  of  those  who,  having  before  been  controlled  are 
made  controllers,  they  presently  fall  under  the  rule  of  an 
organized  body  that  chooses  their  candidates  and  arranges 
for  them  a political  programme,  which  they  must  either 
accept  or  be  powerless.  So  that  in  the  absence  of  a duly- 
adapted  character,  liberty  given  in  one  direction  is  lost  in 
another. 

Allied  to  the  normal  relation  between  character  and  in- 
stitutions, are  the  normal  relations  among  institutions  them- 
selves ; and  the  evils  which  arise  from  disregard  of  the  second 
relations  are  allied  to  those  which  arise  from  disregard  of  the 
first.  Substantially  there  is  produced  the  same  general 
effect.  The  slavery  mitigated  in  one  direction  is  intensified  in 
another.  Coercion  over  the  individual,  relaxed  here  is  tightened 
there.  For,  as  we  have  seen,  that  change  which  accompanies 
development  of  the  industrial  type,  and  is  involved  by  the 
progress  towards  those  purely  equitable  relations  which  the 
regime  of  voluntary  cooperation  brings,  implies  that  the 
political  structures  simultaneously  become  popular  in  their 
origin  and  restricted  in  their  functions.  But  if  they  become 
more  popular  in  their  origin  without  becoming  more  restricted 
in  their  functions,  the  effect  is  to  foster  arrangements  which 
benefit  the  inferior  at  the  expense  of  the  superior ; and  by  so 
doing  work  towards  degradation.  Swayed  as  individuals  are 
on  the  average  by  an  egoism  which  dominates  over  their 
altruism,  it  must  happen  that  even  when  they  become  so  far 
equitable  in  their  sentiments  that  they  will  not  commit  direct 
injustices,  they  will  remain  liable  to  commit  injustices  of 
indirect  kinds.  And  since  the  majority  must  ever  be  formed 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


663 


of  the  inferior,  legislation,  if  unrestricted  in  its  range,  will 
inevitably  be  moulded  by  them  in  such  way  as  more  or 
less  remotely  to  work  out  to  their  own  advantage,  and  to  the 
disadvantage  of  the  superior.  The  politics  of  trades’-unions 
exemplify  the  tendency.  Their  usages  have  become  such 
that  the  more  energetic  and  skilful  workmen  are  not  allowed 
to  profit  to  the  full  extent  of  their  capacities ; because,  if 
they  did  so,  they  would  discredit  and  disadvantage  those  of 
lower  capacities,  who,  forming  the  majority,  establish  and 
enforce  the  usages.  In  multitudinous  ways  a like  tendency 
must  act  through  a political  organization,  if,  while  all  citizens 
have  equal  powers,  the  organization  can  be  used  for  other 
purposes  than  administering  justice.  State-machineries 
worked  by  taxes  falling  in  more  than  due  proportion  on  those 
whose  greater  powers  have  brought  them  greater  means,  will 
give  to  citizens  of  smaller  powers  more  benefits  than  they 
have  earned.  And  this  burdening  of  the  better  for  the  benefit 
of  the  worse,  must  check  the  evolution  of  a higher  and  more 
adapted  nature : the  ultimate  result  being  that  a community 
by  which  this  policy  is  pursued,  will,  other  things  equal,  fail 
in  competition  with  a community  which  pursues  the  purely 
equitable  policy,  and  will  eventually  disappear  in  the  race  of 
civilization. 

In  brief,  the  diffusion  of  political  power  unaccompanied  by 
the  limitation  of  political  functions,  issues  in  communism. 
Tor  the  direct  defrauding  of  the  many  by  the  few,  it  sub- 
stitutes the  indirect  defrauding  of  the  few  by  the  many : evil 
proportionate  to  the  inequity,  being  the  result  in  the  one  case 
as  in  the  other. 

§ 582.  But  the  conclusion  of  profoundest  moment  to  which 
all  lines  of  argument  converge,  is  that  the  possibility  of  a high 
social  state,  political  as  well  as  general,  fundamentally  de- 
pends on  the  cessation  of  war.  After  all  that  has  been  said 
it  is  needless  to  emphasize  afresh  the  truth  that  persistent 
militancy,  maintaining  adapted  institutions,  must  inevitably 


664 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


prevent,  or  else  neutralize,  changes  in  the  direction  of  more 
equitable  institutions  and  laws ; while  permanent  peace  will  of 
necessity  be  followed  by  social  ameliorations  of  every  kind. 

From  war  has  been  gained  all  that  it  had  to  give.  The 
peopling  of  the  Earth  by  the  more  powerful  and  intelligent 
races,  is  a benefit  in  great  measure  achieved ; and  what 
remains  to  be  done,  calls  for  no  other  agency  than  the 
quiet  pressure  of  a spreading  industrial  civilization  on  a 
barbarism  which  slowly  dwindles.  That  integration  of  simple 
groups  into  compound  ones,  and  of  these  into  doubly  com- 
pound ones,  which  war  has  effected,  until  at  length  great 
nations  have  been  produced,  is  a process  already  carried  as 
far  as  seems  either  practicable  or  desirable.  Empires  formed 
of  alien  peoples  habitually  fall  to  pieces  when  the  coercive 
power  which  holds  them  together  fails ; and  even  could  they 
be  held  together,  would  not  form  harmoniously-w~orking 
wholes  : peaceful  federation  is  the  only  further  consolidation 
to  be  looked  for.  Such  large  advantage  as  war  has  yielded 
by  developing  that  political  organization  which,  beginning 
with  the  leadership  of  the  best  warrior  has  ended  in  complex 
governments  and  systems  of  administration,  has  been  fully 
obtained ; and  there  only  remains  for  the  future  to  preserve 
and  re-mould  its  useful  parts  while  getting  rid  of  those  no 
longer  required.  So,  too,  that  organization  of  labour  initiated 
by  war — an  organization  which,  setting  out  with  the  relation 
of  owner  and  slave  and  developing  into  that  of  master  and 
servant,  has,  by  elaboration,  given  us  industrial  structures 
having  numerous  grades  of  officials,  from  head-directors  down 
to  foremen — has  been  developed  quite  as  far  as  is  requisite 
for  combined  action ; and  has  to  be  hereafter  modified,  not 
in  the  direction  of  greater  military  subordination,  but  rather  in 
the  opposition  direction.  Again,  the  power  of  continuous 
application,  lacking  in  the  savage  and  to  be  gained  only  under 
that  coercive  discipline  which  the  militant  type  of  society 
establishes,  has  been  already  in  large  measure  acquired  by 
the  civilized  man;  and  such  further  degree  of  it  as  is  needed. 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


665 


will  be  produced  under  the  stress  of  industrial  competition  in 
free  communities.  Nor  is  it  otherwise  with  great  public 
'works  and  developed  industrial  arts.  Though,  in  the  canal 
cut  by  the  Persians  across  the  isthmus  of  Athos,  and  again 
in  a canal  of  two  miles  long  made  by  the  Fijians,  we  see 
both  that  war  is  the  first  prompter  to  such  undertakings  and 
that  the  despotic  rule  established  by  it  is  the  needful  agency 
for  carrying  them  out ; yet  we  also  see  that  industrial  evolu- 
tion has  now  reached  a stage  at  which  commercial  advantage 
supplies  a sufficient  stimulus,  and  private  trading  corporations 
a sufficient  power,  to  execute  works  far  larger  and  more 
numerous.  And  though  from  early  days  when  flint  arrow- 
heads were  chipped  and  clubs  carved,  down  to  present  days 
when  armour-plates  a foot  thick  are  rolled,  the  needs  of 
defence  and  offence  have  urged  on  invention  and  mechanical 
skill ; yet  in  our  own  generation  steam-hammers,  hydraulic 
rams,  and  multitudinous  new  appliances  from  locomotives  to 
telephones,  prove  that  industrial  needs  alone  have  come  to 
furnish  abundant  pressure  whereby,  hereafter,  the  industrial 
arts  will  be  further  advanced.  Thus,  that  social  evolution 
which  had  to  be  achieved  through  the  conflicts  of  societies 
with  one  another,  has  already  been  achieved ; and  no  further 
benefits  are  to  be  looked  for.  J 

Only  further  evils  are  to  be  looked  for  from  the  conti- 
nuance of  militancy  in  civilized  nations.  The  general  lesson 
taught  by  all  the  foregoing  chapters  is  that,  indispensable  as 
has  been  this  process  by  which  nations  have  been  conso- 
lidated, organized,  and  disciplined,  and  requisite  as  has  been 
the  implied  coercion  to  develop  certain  traits  of  individual 
human  nature,  yet  that,  beyond  the  unimaginable  amount  of 
suffering  directly  involved  by  the  process,  there  has  been  an 
unimaginable  amount  of  suffering  indirectly  involved ; alike 
by  the  forms  of  political  institutions  necessitated,  and  by  the 
accompanying  type  of  individual  nature  fostered.  And  they 
show  by  implication  that  for  the  diminution  of  this  suffering, 
not  only  of  the  direct  kind  but  of  the  indirect  kind,  the  one 


666 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


thing  needful  is  the  checking  of  international  antagonisms 
and  the  diminution  of  those  armaments  which  are  at  once 
cause  and  consequence  of  them.  With  the  repression  of 
militant  activities  and  decay  of  militant  organizations,  will 
come  amelioration  of  political  institutions  as  of  all  other  insti- 
tutions. Without  them,  no  such  ameliorations  are  permanently 
possible.  Liberty  overtly  gained  in  name  and  form  will  be 
unobtrusively  taken  awTay  in  fact. 

It  is  not  to  be  expected,  however,  that  any  very  marked 
effects  are  to  be  produced  by  the  clearest  demonstration 
of  this  truth — even  by  a demonstration  beyond  all  question. 
A general  congruity  has  to  be  maintained  between  the  social 
state  at  any  time  necessitated  by  circumstances,  and  the 
accepted  theories  of  conduct,  political  and  individual.  Such 
acceptance  as  there  may  be  of  doctrines  at  variance  with  the 
temporary  needs,  can  never  be  more  than  nominal  in  degree, 
or  limited  in  range,  or  both.  The  acceptance  which  guides 
conduct  will  always  be  of  such  theories,  no  matter  how 
logically  indefensible,  as  are  consistent  with  the  average 
modes  of  action,  public  and  private.  All  that  can  be  done 
by  diffusing  a doctrine  much  in  advance  of  the  time,  is  to 
facilitate  the  action  of  forces  tending  to  cause  advance.  The 
forces  themselves  can  be  but  in  small  degrees  increased; 
but  something  may  be  done  by  preventing  mis-direction  of 
them.  Of  the  sentiment  at  any  time  enlisted  on  behalf  of  a 
higher  social  state,  there  is  always  some  (and  at  the  present 
time  a great  deal)  which,  having  the  broad  vague  form  of 
sympathy  with  the  masses,  spends  itself  in  efforts  for  their 
welfare  by  multiplication  of  political  agencies  of  one  or  other 
kind.  Led  by  the  prospect  of  immediate  beneficial  results, 
those  swayed  by  this  sympathy  are  unconscious  that  they 
are  helping  further  to  elaborate  a social  organization  at 
variance  with  that  required  for  a higher  form  of  social  life, 
and  are,  by  so  doing,  increasing  the  obstacles  to  attainment 
of  that  higher  form.  On  a portion  of  such  the  foregoing 
chapters  may  have  some  effect  by  leading  them  to  con- 


POLITICAL  RETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT.  667 

sider  whether  the  arrangements  they  are  advocating  involve 
increase  of  that  public  regulation  characterizing  the  militant 
type,  or  whether  they  tend  to  produce  that  greater  indi- 
viduality and  more  extended  voluntary  cooperation,  charac- 
terizing the  industrial  type.  To  deter  here  and  there  one 
from  doing  mischief  by  imprudent  zeal,  is  the  chief  proxi- 
mate effect  to  be  hoped  for. 


END  OF  VOL.  IL 


REFERENCES. 


To  find  tlie  authority  for  any  statement  in  the  text,  the  reader  is  to 
proceed  as  follows  : — Observing  the  number  of  the  section  in  which 
the  statement  occurs,  he  will  first  look  out,  in  the  following  pages, 
the  corresponding  number,  which  is  printed  in  conspicuous  type. 
Among  the  references  succeeding  this  number,  he  will  then  look 
for  the  name  of  the  tribe,  people,  or  nation  concerning  which  the 
statement  is  made  (the  names  in  the  references  standing  in  the 
same  order  as  that  which  they  have  in  the  text) ; and  that  it  may 
more  readily  catch  the  eye,  each  such  name  is  printed  in  Italics.  In 
the  parenthesis  following  the  name,  will  be  found  the  volume  and  page 
of  the  work  referred  to,  preceded  by  the  first  three  or  four  letters  of 
the  author’s  name ; and  where  more  than  one  of  his  works  has  been 
used,  the  first  three  or  four  letters  of  the  title  of  the  one  containing  the 
particular  statement.  The  meanings  of  these  abbreviations,  employed 
to  save  the  space  that  would  be  occupied  by  frequent  repetitions  of 
full  titles,  is  shown  at  the  end  of  the  references  ; where  will  be  found 
arranged  in  alphabetical  order,  these  initial  syllables  of  authors’ 
names,  &c.,  and  opposite  to  them  the  full  titles  of  the  works 
referred  to. 


§ 343.  Australians  (Mit.  ii,  68  ; i,  87  ; i,  84 ; Aug.  i,  59)  — Tasmanians 
(Bon.  pp.  3,37,  226) — Esquimaux  (reference  lost)—  Comanches  (Banc,  i,  519) — 
Araucanians  (Smith,  195)  — Bedouins  (Bur.  iii,  43) — Arabs  (Lyon,  53)  — Abys- 
sinians  (Duf.  172) — Balonda  (Liv.  “Mis.  Tra.”  276) — Malagasy  (Ell.  “Hist,  of 
Mad.”  i,  258) — Samoans  (Tur.  289).  § 344.  Chinese  (Wil.  S.  W.  ii,  68) — 

Tahitians  (Ell.  “Pol.  Res.”  i,  319  ; ii,  369) — Tongans  (Mar.  ii,  78,100) — Ancient 
Mexicans  (Dur.  i,  ch.  26) — Peru  (Gar.  bk.  ii,  ch.  12)  — Japanese  (Ale.  i,  63)  — 
England  (Whar.  469) — Sandwich  Islanders  ( Ell.  “Hawaii,”  365-67) — Tahitians 
(Ell.  “Pol.  Res.”  ii,  ch.  7) — Nicaraguans  (Ovi.  bk.  xlii,  ch.  2 & 3)  — Hebrews 
(Kue.  i,  292-3).  § 345.  Tongans  (Mar.  i,  146,  note)  — Fijians  (Wil.  Rev. 

J.  — ) — Siamese  (Loub.  i,  353)  — Chinese  (Wil.  S.  W.  i,  313)  — * Japanese 
( Stein.  348).  § 346.  Mongol  (Timk.i,  19 6) —Philippines (Jag.  161) — Chita - 

gong  Hill  Tribes  (Lew.  46)  — Burmese  (Fyt.  ii,  69)  — Samoans  (Tur.  346)  — 
Esquimaux  (Beech,  i,  345) — New  Zealanders  (Cook,  “Last  Voy.”  49)  — Snake 
Indians  (Lew.  & Cl.  266)  — Comanches  (Mar.  29)  — Fuegians  (Snow,  i,  263  ; 
Loango  (Bat.  in  “Pink.  Voy.”  xvi,  331)  — Batoka  (Liv.  “Miss.  Tra.”  551) — 
Balonda  (Liv.  “ Miss.  Tra.”  296) — Loango  (Ast.  iii,  238) — Fiji  (Wil.  Rev.  J. 
i,  37) — Australians  (Mit.  i,  247)  — New  Zealanders  (Ang.  ii,  32-75) — Central 


REFERENCES, 


669 


South  Africa  (Liv.  “Miss.  Tra.”  448 )— Shoshones  (Banc,  vi,  438) — Australians 
(Ang.  i,  59)  — Vate  (Ersk.  334)  — Samoan  (Tur.  194)  — Africa  (Liv.  “ Miss. 
Tra.”  ii,  49)  — Peruvians  (Cie.  ch.  44)  — Egyptians  (Wilk.  plates)  — Moslem 
(Klunz.  106)  — Tahitians  (Wal.  “ Hawk.  Voy.”  i,  447)  — Kaffirs  (Bar.  i,  75) — 
Tasmanians  (West,  ii,  7) — Arabs  (Bak.  “Nile  Trib.”  125).  § 347.  Pata- 

gonians (Falk.  121-2)  — Madagascar  (Ell.  “ Hist.  Mad.”  ii,  258)  — Samoans 
(Tur.  348) — Fijians  (Ersk.  254) — Ashantees  (Dup.  43) — Yorubas  (Lan.  i,  125) 
Madagascar  (Drur.  218) — China  (Staun.  345) — Samoa  (Tur.  314) — Madagascar 
(Ell.  “ Visits,”  127) — Japanese  (Stein.  69)  — Chinese  (Mil.  94)  — Borne  (Beck. 
213) — Assyrians  (Raw.  i,  503-4) — Mexico  (Her.  iii,  202-3  ; Torq.  bk.  ix,  ch.  20; 
— Nicaragua  (Squ.  ii,  340) — Peru  (Piz.  225  ; Xer.  48) — Chibchas  (Pied.  bk.  i, 
ch.  5) — Uganda  (Speke  294) — Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  294) — Abyssinians  (Duf.  71  ; 
Bru.  iv,  454,  417) — Japanese  (Koem.  55-6)  — Egypt  (Eb.  i,  352) — New  Zealand 
(Thom,  i,  114)  — China  (Hue.  “Trav.  in  Tar.”  ii,  261  ; Gutz.  ii,  311  ; Will. 

5. W.,  i,  331-2  ; ii,  68-9)— Japanese  (Dick.  283;  Mit.  ii,  43) — France  (Vul.  pas- 

sim ; Cher.  Diet.  536-7) — England  (Nob.  passim)  — Peru  (Acos.  bk.  v,  ch.  6) 
— Madagascar  (Ell.  “ Hist.  Mad.”  i,  356) — England  (Nob.  96  & passim) — France 
(Vul.  passim).  § 349.  Vate  (Tur.  393) — Shoshones  (Banc,  i,  438) — Mish- 
mis  (Coop.  190) — Santals  (Sher.  “ Jour.  As.  Soc.  Bengal,”  xx,  582) — Kooseas 
(Lich.  i,  288) — Ashanti  (Beech.  — ) — Ceris  and  Opatas  (Banc,  i,  581)  — Chi- 
cliimecs  (Banc,  i,  629).  § 350.  Hebrews  (Judges,  vii,  25;  1 Samuel  xvii, 

54)  — Chichimecs  (Banc,  i,  629)  — Abipones  (Dob.  ii,  408)  — Mundrucus  (Hen. 
475) — New  Zealanders  (Thom,  i,  130)  — Congo  (Tuck.  101)  — Ashantee  (Dup. 
227) — Persia  (Mor.  “ Sec.  Jour.”  186) — Timour  (Gib.  1131)— Dahomey  (Bur.  i, 
218  ; Dal.  76) — Northern  Celebes  (reference  lost) — Dyaks  (Boyle,  170)  Kukis 
(Fisher,  Jour.  As.  Soc.  Ben.  ix,  836)  — Borneo  (St.  John  “ Far  East,”  ii,  28). 
§ 351.  Ashantee  (Ram.  & Kiih.  130)— Tahitians  (Cook,  “ Hawk.  Voy.”  ii,  161) 
— Vate  (Tur.  393)  — Boigu  (Geog.  Soc.  1876,  letter  from  Mr.  Stone  of  Sept.  7, 
1875) — Tupis  (South,  i,  222) — Caribs  (Edw.  i,  45)  — Moxos  (Hutch.  “ The  Pa- 
rana,” 34) — Central  Americans  (Fan.  314-5) — Poland  (Gib.  1116) — Constantine 
(Gib.  811)  — Montenegro  (The  Times,  Dec.  14,  1876).  § 352.  Mexicans 

(Cam.  iii,  134  ; Sah.  bk.  ix,  c.  15) — Yucatan  (Her.  iv.  174) — Abipones  (Dob.  ii, 
408)  — Shoshones  (Lew.  & Cl.  309)  — Nagas  (Grange,  Jour.  As.  Soc.  Ben.  ix, 
959) — Mandans  (Cat.  i,  136) — Cochimis  (Banc,  i,  567).  § 353.  Mexicans 

(Banc,  i,  581)  — Californians  (Banc,  i,  380) — Khonds  (Macph.  57) — Egyptians 
(Dun.  i,  131) — Abyssinians  (Bruce  vi,  116-17  ; d’Heri.  188-9)— Hebrews  (l  Sam. 
xviii,  25).  § 354.  Osages  (Tylor  “ Prim.  Cult.”  2nd  ed.  i,  416) — Ojibways 

(Hind  ii,  123).  § 355.  Salic  (Salic  Law,  lxiv,  9;  Lehuerou,  ii,  370 )—Jeivs, 

2 Mac.  xv,  30  ; 2 Sam.  iv,  12).  § 356.  Gauls  (Diod.  v,  2) — Timour  (Gib. 

1130)— Khonds  (Macph.  57) — Tahitians  (Ell.  “Pol.  Res.”i,  488)— Greeks  (Pot. 
ii,  109-10)— Fijians  (U.S.  Ex.  Ex.  iii,  79) — Flemish  (Cher.  358) — French  (Leb. 
vi,  127).  §357.  Scotland  (Bur.  i,  398) — Khonds  (Macph.  46) — Athenians 

(Grote  iv,  222)  — Fiji  (Wil.  i,  31  ; Ersk.  454) — Panthay  (Baber) — Fiji  (Ersk. 
454) — Shoshones  (Banc,  i,  433) — Chichimecs  (Banc,  i,  629) — Hebreivs  (1  Sam.  xi, 
1-3) — Bulgarians  (Gib.  975).  § 358.  Araucanians  (Thomp.  i,  406) — Bac- 

trians  (Dun.  i,  174) — Hebrews  (Judges  i,  6-7)— Fiji  (Wil.  i,  30;  i,  197-8;  i,  177) 
— Charruas  (Hutch.  48  et  seq.)  — Mandans  (Lew.  & Cl.  86)  — Tonga  (Mar.  ii, 
210) — Australians  (Mit.ii,  345) — Hottentot  (Pink.  Voy.  xvi,  141 ) — Egypt  (Wilk. 
i,  307) — Japanese  (Busk,  241) — Europe  (Lex  Gomb,  xxvi,  4 ; Lex  Wisig.  viii. 

6,  2) — England  (“Leges  Gul.”  i,  cap.  7).  § 359.  Central  Americans  (Her. 

iv,  135)  — Ashantees  (Ram.  & Kuh.  216)  — Anc.  Mexico  (Clav.  bk.  vii,  c.  17) — 
Honduras  (Her.  iv,  140) — Miztecas  (Her.  iii,  262-3)  — Zapotecas  (Her.  vii.  269) 
Hebrews  (Knobel  ex.  w.  Lev.  214) — Burmese  (Sang.  124) — Gond  (For.  164) — 
Astrachan  (Bell  i,  43 )— Hebreivs  (2  Kings  xix;  Lay.  ii,  288;  Van-Len.  ii,  688). 
§ 360.  Sandwich  Islands  (Ell.  “ Hawaii,”  146  ; Cook  “ Sec.  Voy.”  ii,  69)  — 
Australians  (Ang.  ii,  217  ; Hay.  i,  103)  — Anc.  Peruvians  (Cieza,  chs.  47,  49) 
— Damaras  (Gal.  148) — Sierra  Leone  (Wint.  i,  104).  § 361.  Britain  (Cox 

and  Jones, 88)— Kalmucks(Psi\.  i,  194) — Chinese  (Wil.  S.W.  ii,  2 2 4)— Greeks  and 


670 


CEREMONIAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Homans  (Smith,  “ Sm.  Die.  Ant .”s.v.  “Coma”) — Nootkas (Banc. i,  19 5)— Caribs 
(Ed.  i,  53) — Nicaragua  (Her.  iii,  298) — Central  Americans  (Cog.  bk.  iv.  ch.  4) — 
Ancient  Mexicans  (Zur.  110-111) — Chib chas  (Pied,  bk.  i,ch.  2)—  Itzaex(Fan.3\S) 
— Ottomans  (Pax.  ii,  87) — Greeks  (Beck.  “ Charicles”  452-55) — Franks  (Guer. 
“Polyp.”  i,  300  ; Agath.  ii, 49  ; Greg,  iii,  18) — Japanese ( Busk,  144) — Samoans 
(Tur.  “Polynesia,”  205)  — New  Caledonians  (Jour.  Ethn.  Soc.  iii,  56 )— Europe 
(Due.  87)  — Clovis  and  Alaric  (Due.  88) — Dacotahs  (Lew.  & Cl.  54)  — Caribs 
(Ed.  i,  53) — Hebrevjs  (Lev.  xxi,  5 ; Jer.  xvi,  6) — Greeks  and  Romans  (Smith, 
“Sm.  Die.  of  Ant.”  s.v.  “ Coma”) — Greeks  (Pot.  ii,  198-9  ; Jebb.  46  ; Beck. 
“ Charicles,”  398;  Smith,  “ Sm.Dic.  of  Ant.”  s.v. “ Coma”) — Romans  (reference 
lost)  — Hebrews  (Jer.  xli.  5)  — Arabians  (Krehl,  23)  — Ancient  Peru  (Acosta, 
bk.  y, ch.  5) — Sandwich  Islanders  (Ell.  “Hawaii,”  29) — Tahitians (Hawk’s.Voy. 

i,  468) — France  (Guizot  “ Col.”  i).  § 362.  Spoleto  (Gib.  987)  — Phrygian 

(Dun.  i,  531)  — Mexicans  (Brin.  147)  — Hottentots  (Kol.  i,  112)  — Phoenicians 
(Movers) — San  Salvador  (Pal. 87) — il/oses(Exod.  iv, 24-26)—  Antiochus  (Macc.  i, 
48-60) — Mattathias  (Macc.  ii,45-6) — Hyrcanus  (Jos.  Ant.xiii,  9, 1) — Aristobulus 
(Jos.  Ant.  xiii,  11,  3) — Tongans  (Mar.  ii,  79) — Berbers  (Kohl.  45).  § 363. 

Kaffirs  (Gard.  264)  — Jews  (Jerem.  xli,  5)  — Samoans  (Tur.  187)  — Central 
Americans  (Mart.  338).  § 364.  Huns  (Jor.  49) — Turks  (Pell.  29) — Lace- 

dcemonians  (Pot.  ii,  204)  — Hebrews  (Levit.  xix,  28) — Scandinavians  (Heims- 
kringla  Saga,  caps.  4-10) — Andamans  (Trans.  Eth.  Soc.  N.S.  ii,  36) — Aheokuta 
(Bur.  i,  104) — Cuebas  (Banc,  i,  753)  — Peruvians  (Cieza,  cap.  88)  — Sandwich 
Islanders  (Cook  “Sec.  Voy.”  ii,  152) — Parian  Indians  (Banc,  i,  771) — Uaupes 
(Wal.  Wl)Sandwich  Islanders  (Ell.  “Hawaii,”  146)— Eastern  (Grim. iv, 241) 
— Hebrews  (Deut.  xxxii,  5 ; Rev.  vii,  2-3  ; xiv,  1,  9,  10) — Arabs  (Thom.  66) — 
Christians'  ( Kal.  ii,  429  30) — Mexico  (Torq.  bk.  ix,  ch.  31) — Angola  (Bast.  76) 
— Tongans  (Mar.  ii,  2G8)  — Borneo  (Boyle,  223) — Panuco  (Witt  ii,  288) — New 
Zealanders  (Ang.  i,  315) — Abipones  (Dob.  ii,  23).  § 365.  Bechuanas  (Lich. 

ii,  331) — Damaras  (And.  224)  — Congo  (Tuck.  80) — Itsaex  (Pan.  313) — Abipones 

(Dob.  ii,  35, — Arawaks  (Schom.  ii,  458).  § 368.  Ancient  Peruvians  (Gar. 

bk.  ii,  ch.  4).  § 369.  Mexico  (Torq.  bk.  xiv,  ch.  9)  — Chibchas  (Sim.  251) — 

Yucatan  (Landa,  § xx) — Tahitians  (Forst.  370) — Fiji  (Wil.  i,  28) — Tahiti  (Ell. 
“Pol.  Res.”  i,  319) — Fiji  (Ersk.  431) — Malagasy  (Drur.  220).  § 370.  Tim- 
buctoo  (Cail.  ii,  53)  — Kaffirs  (Lich.  i,  286)  — Koosa  (Lich.  i,  271)  — Vera  Pas 
(Torq.  bk.  xi,  ch.  19) — Chibchas  (Pied.  bk.  i,  ch.  5) — Mexicans  (Tern,  i,  404-5) 
— Peru  (Guz.  91)  — Hebrews  (2  Chron.  ix  ; 1 Sam.  x,  27) — Japan  (Dick.  391  ; 
Koem.  49) — China  (Chin.  Rep.  iii,  110-11) — Burmah  (Yule,  76) — Merovingians 
(Gall,  ii,  647) — England  (Rob.  20).  § 371.  Persia  (Mai.  ii,  478-9) — Tonga 

(Mar.  i,  231) — Mexicans  (Dur.  i,  ch.  25) — Meztillan  (Tern,  ii,  289) — Montezuma 
(Gal.  i,  116  ; Tern,  i,  404-5)  — Merovingians  and  Carolingians  (Waitz  ii,  557; 
iv,  91-5-8  ; Guer.  “ St.  Pere,”  introd. ; Leber,  vii,  418  ; Guer.  “ St.  Pere,”  in- 
trod.) — English  (Stubbs,  i,  278).  § 372.  Chibchas  (Pied.  bk.  ii, ch.  4) — 

Sumatra  (Mars.  211) — India  (Drew,  15) — Anglo-Saxons  (Broom, 26) — Normans 
(Mozley,  s.  v.  “ Orig.  Writ.”)— Kir gliis  (Mitch.  248) — France  (Guizot,  iii,  260; 
Chtr.  voce  “ Epices”) — English  (Rob.  1 ; Scob.  ii,  148-394  ; Stubbs,  i,  384) — 
Russia  (Cust.  53) — Spain  (Rose,  i,  79) — Bechuanas  ( Bur.  i,  544) — Dahomey  (For. 
i,  34)— East  (VanLen.ii,  592).  § 373*  Congo  (Tuck.  115)  —Tonquin  (Tav.) 
— New  Caledonians  (Tur.  88) — Veddah  (Trans.  Eth.  S.L.  N.S.  ii,  301) — Dyaks 
(Brooke,  i,  73)  — Greeks  (Guhl,  283) — Zulu  (Gard.  96)  — Hebrews  (Levit.  i) — 
Greeks  (Pot.  i,  239) — Hebrews  (l  Sam.  xxi,  6) — England  (Hook,  541).  § 374. 
Ancient  Mexico  (Saha.  bk.  iii,  ch.  1,  § 3-4)  — Kukis  (Stewart,  Jour.  R.A.S.  Ben. 
xxiv,  630) — Battas  (Mars.  386) — Bustars  (His.  17) — Dahomey  (Bur.  ii,  151,  et 
seq. ; For.  i,  174)—  Ashantees  (Beech.  188)— Tahitians  (Ell.  “Pol.  Res.”  ii,  271) 
— Central  America  (Ovi.  bk.  xlii,  ch.  2)  — Greeks  (Pot.  i,  172,  247)  — Early 
Christians ( Hook,  540) — Mediceval  (Guer.  “N.  Dame,”  xiv).  § 375.  China 
(Staun.  351) — Kukis  (But.  94) — Dahomey  (For.  ii,  243) — Germans  (Tac.  xiv.) 
— French  (Due.  20  ; Mons.  i,  ch.  59).  § 376.  Australians  (Cook  “Hawk. 

Voy.”  iii,  634) — Osbyaks  (Bell  ii,  189) — Julijunda  (Park,  l GO) — North  American 


REFERENCES. 


671 


Indians  (Cat.  i,  2*22,  note)  — Yucatanese  (Landa,  § xxiii)  — Japanese  (Mifc.  i, 
112  ; i,  142)  — Himalayas  (Mark.  108) — Bootan  (Tur.  73,  233)  — Rome  (Cor. 
120) — France  (Meril,  115).  § 379.  Jolojfs  (Mol.  31,  42) — Kaffirs  (Shooter, 

99)  — Ancient  Peruvians  (Cieza,  ch.  74  ; Xer.  Reports,  68)  — Mexico  (Tem.- 
Comp.  ii,  332,  &c.) — Asliantee  (Beech.  94-6) — Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  296)  — Mada- 
gascar (Ell.  “ Visits,' ” 127) — Siam  (Bowr.  ii,  108) — Mogul  (Tav.  “Hist.”  67) — 
Jummoo  (Drew,  “ North.  Bar.”  47)  — Japan  (Koem.  49,  66,  11)  — France  (de 
Tocq.  bk.  ii,  ch.  xii).  § 380.  Spain  (Rose  i,  119)  — Japan  (Koem.  51  ; 
46).  § 381.  Wahhabees  (Pal.  ii,  110)  — Persia  (Tav.  “Travels,”  bk.  v,  ch. 

xvi,  235) — Africa  (Grant,  48)  — French  (Rules  of  Civility  (1685).  § 383. 

Shoshones  (Lew.  & Cl.  265) — BatoJca  (Liv.  “ Miss.  Tra.”  551) — Tonga  (For.st. 
361)—  Africa  (Laird i,  192) — East  Peru  (Gar. bk.  iii,  ch.  2;  Est.  94).  § 384. 

Chibcha  (Sim.  264) — Borghoo  (Lan.  ii,  183)— Asia  (Camp.  147;  Bowr.ii,  270) — 
Polynesia  (Cook,  304)— Jews  (2  Sam.  ix,  6) — Bithynia  (Mom.  ii,  31 1)  — Bootan 
(Tur.  80) — Coast  Negroes  (Bos,  317) — Brass  (Laird  i,  97) — Congo  (Tuck.  125) 
— Niger  (All.  & T.  i,  391)  — Russia  (Sel.  iii,  279)  — China  (Will.  S.  W.  ii,  68) 
— Hebrews  (1  Kings  i,  23  ; Gen.  xxxiii,  3;  Gen.  xvii,  17;  Dan.  ii,  46)  — Mon- 
gols (Pall,  ii,  170) — Japanese  (Koem.  50).  § 385.  Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  261)  — 

Mexicans  (Dur.  i,  207)— New  Caledonians  (Ersk.  356) — Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  261) 
— Siam  (Bowr.  i,  128) — Cambodia  (Bowr.  ii,  31) — Zulu  (Gard.  203) — Loango 
(Ast.  iii,  221)  — Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  250;  ii,  45)  — Japan  (Dick.  30)  — China 
(“Pink.  Voy.”  vii,  238)  — Europe  (Alie.  197-8)  — Japanese  (Chin.  Rep.  iii, 
260)  — China  (Will.  S.  W.  ii,  68 — Soosoos  (Wint.  i,  122)— Samoa  (Tur.  332) — 
Ancient  Mexicans  (Cam.  ii,  200) — Chinese  (Will,  ii,  68) — Congoese  (Bas.  143). 
§ 386.  Loango  (Ast.  iii,  238,  in  “ Pink.  Voy.”  xvi)  — Uganda  (Speke,  331) — 
Balonda  (Liv.  “Miss.  Tra.”  276-96) — Karague  (Grant,  140)— Fiji  (Will,  i,  35) 
— Eboe  (Laird  i,  388)  — Ancient  Mexicans  (Diaz,  ch.  71)  — Abyssinians  (Har. 
iii,  170)—  Malagasy  (Dru.  415-67)  — Ancient  Peru  (Xer.  68)  — Persia  (Por.  i, 
464) — Tonga  (Mar.  i,  227)— Arabian  (Pax.  ii,  43) — Mexico  (Clav.  bk.  vi,  ch.  8) 
— Peru  (Acos.  bk.  v,  ch.  4;  Gar.  bk.  ii,  ch.  8)  — Greeks  (Smith’s  “ Sm.  Die.  of 
Ant.”  s.v.  “ Saltatio.”)— Pepin  (Gall,  v,  433).  § 387.  Africa  (Bur.  i,  259- 

60  ; All.  & T.  i,  345  ; Liv.  “Miss.  Tra.”  276,  296  ; All.  & T.  i,  391)  — Jews 
(Jos.  “ Wars,”  ii,  15)  — Turkey  (White  ii,  239  ; i,  232)  — Jews  (1  Kings  xx, 
32  ; Josh,  vii,  6).  § 388.  Uganda  (Grant,  224)  — Chinese  (Doo.  86-7) — 

Mongol  (Hue  i,  54)  — Malagasy  (Drur.  78)  — Siamese  (Loub.  i,  179)  — Unyan- 
yembe  (Grant,  52) — Sumatra  (Mars.  281)  — Greeks  (reference  lost)  — Siamese 
(Bowr.  ii,  128) — China  (Will.  S.  W.  ii.  68).  § 389.  Fijians  (Ersk.  297) — 

Otaheitans  (Cook,  Hawk.  Voy.  ii,  84)  — Soudan  (Tylor,  “Early  Hist.”  50  — 
Uganda  (Speke,  374)  — Abyssinia  (Har.  iii,  171)  — Tahitians  (Ell.  “Pol. Res.” 
ii,  352  ; Eorst.  361)  — Gold  Coast  (Oruic.  ii,  282 ; Bur.  i,  337)  — Spain  (Ford 
“ Gatherings,”  249)  — Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  49)  — Gold  Coast  (Cruic.  ii,  282) — 
Ancient  America  (And.  58;  Tern,  i,  113  — Burmah  (Yule,  79)  — Persia  (Mor. 
i,  241)  — Ancient  Mexico  (Diaz,  ch.  91) — Peru  (And.  58  ) — Dahomey  (Dal. 

Intro,  vii)— France  (Com.  ii,  3;  St.  Sim.  xi,  378)  — Hebrews  (Isa.  xxxii,  11) — 
East  (Pax.  ii,  136) — Peru  (Gar.  bk.  vi,  ch.  21) — Damaras  (And.  231)  — Turks 
(White  ii,  96).  § 390.  Toorkee  (Grant,  333) — Slave  Coast  (Bos.  317).  § 391. 
China  (Gray  i,  211) — Mosquitos  (Banc,  i,  741)  — Arabs  (Mai.  8 ; Nieb.  ii.  247) 
— Uganda  (Grant, 228).  § 392.  Poles  (Spen.  “Germany,”  i,  156-7)  — Turkish 

(White  ii,  303)  — Siam  (Bowr.  i,  127;  Loub.  vi,  178) — Russia  (reference  lost). 
§ 393.  Tupis  (Stade,  59  & 151) — Africa  (Mol.  288)  — Delhi  (Wils.  letter) — 
Sandwich  Is.  (Ell.  “Hawaii,”  357)  — France  (Sain.  ch.  69)  — Spain  (Ford 
“ Handbook,”  § 17,  53).  § 394.  France  (Cher.  Diet,  ii,  1131)  — Hebrews 

(2  Sam.  xiv,  22  ; Isaiah  xlviii,  20  ; 2 Kings  xvi,  7) — Europe  (Luc.  90) — India 
(Wils.  letter)— Samoan  (Tur.  348).  § 395.  Siam  (Bowr.  i,  127) — Turkey 

(White  ii,  52)  — Bulgarians  (Times,  12  Dec.  1876)  — French  (Sully  ii,  78)  — 
Delhi  (Tav.  “Hist.”  84-5)  — France  (Mon.  iii,  152) — Chinese  (Gray  i,  211)  — 
India  (Pax.  ii , 74 ; Wils.  letter) — Persians  (Tav.  bk.  v,  ch.  iii,  205).  § 396. 

Snakes  (Lew.  & Cl.  266)  — Araucanians  (Smith,  195)  — Arabs  (Lyon,  53)  — 


672 


CEREMONIAL  INSTITUTIONS, 


Chinese  (Halde  ii,  185) — France  (Mon.  ii,  165-6).  § 397.  Abipones  (Dob. 

ii,  204)  — Samoa  (Ersk.  “ West  Pac.”  107)  — Javans  (Raf.  i,  366 ) — Mexican 
(Gal.  i,  28) — Kaffirs  (Shooter,  221) — Samoa  (Ersk.  “ West  Pac.”  43)  — Siam 
(Bowr.  i,  276)  — China  (Chin.  Rep.  iv,  157) — Siam  (Bowr.  i,  127-8) — Chinese 
(Halde  ii,  177)  — Siamese  (Loub.  i,  168)  — Japanese  (Stein.  209)  — Germany 
(Ger.  124  ; May.  i,  394) — France  (Chal.  ii,  31)  — Samoa  (Tur.  “Poly.”  340). 
§ 398.  Dacotahs  (Bur.  144)  — Veddahs  (Bailey,  Transactions  Ethnological 
Society,  London,  N.  S.,  ii,  298)  — China  (Chin.  Rep.  iv,  157).  § 400. 

Tupis  (South,  i,  222)  — Creeks  (reference  lost)  — Nicaragua  (Ovi.  bk.  xxix, 
ch.  12) — Fiji  ( Wil.  i,  55) — Mexico  (Dur.  i,  102-3) — Fiji  (Ersk.  443).  § 401. 

Twpis  (South,  i,  239) — Guatemala  (Xim.  163)  — Dahomey  (Bur.  ii,  Ap.  iv.) — 
Usambara  (Krapf,  395) — Zulu  (Gard.  91  ; Shooter,  290) — Kaffir  (Shooter,  98) — 
Samoa  (Ersk.  43)  — Burmah  ( Daily  News , 24  Mar.  1879).  § 402.  Tartars 

(Pink.Yoy.vii,  591) — Madagascar  (Ellis  “Hist.”  i,  261 ) — Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  262) — 
Ancient  Mexicans  (Mot.  31) — Kasias  (Jour.  A.  S.B.  xiii,  620).  § 403.  China 

and  Japan  (Ale.  ii,  343) — Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  273)—  Asia (Tav.  ‘‘Hist.”  24) — Zulus 
(Gard.  91) — Japanese  (Mit.  i,  202) — Siam  (Bowr.  i,  275) — China  (Hue.  i,  268) 
— Siam  (Pink.  Yoy.  ix,  586)  — Russia  (Wahl,  35) — Dyaks  (St.  John  ii,  103) — 
Kasias  (Jour,  xiii,  620) — Becliuana  (Thomp.  i,  174).  § 404.  Teutonic  (Mul. 

ii.  280).  § 405.  King  (Mul.  ii,  284—  Abyssinia  ( Bruce  iv,  4 5 2)— France  (Cher. 

66-7 ) — Merovingian ( Mich. i,  69).  § 406.  Samoa  (Tur.  “ Poly.”  281 ) — Siam 
( Turpin  “Pink.  Yoy.”  ix,  584  ; Loub.  i,  238) — Chinese  (Will.  S.W.  ii,  71  ; and  i, 
521) — Rome  (Mom.  ii,  347-8) — Mecklenburgh  (Spen.  “Ger.”  i,  44) — Spain  (Ford 
“ Handbook,”  §xvii,  52).  § 407.  Dahomey  (Bur.  i,  52) — Burman  (Yule,  194) 

— China  (Wil.  S.W.  i,  317) — Europe  (Ger.  9i) — Russia  (Sala,  252).  § 408. 
Kami  (Grant.  92) — Uganda  (Speke,  290) — Chichimecs  (Church.  Yoy.iv,  513  — 
Yucatanese  (Lan.  § xxix).  § 409.  Japan  (Busk,  21)  — Madagascar  (Ell. 
“ Visits,”  178)  — Uganda  (Speke,  375)  — Japan  (Dick.  49)  — Hebreivs  (Ew.  iii, 
73)  — Zeus  (Pau.  Grsec.  Des.  ix,  c.  40,  §6) — Franks  (Waitz.  ii,  130;  Greg,  vii, 
33;  Bullet  in  Leber  xiii,  259-65) — Araucanians  (Thom,  i,  404) — Uganda  (Speke, 
429) — France  (Quich.  ref.  lost).  § 410.  Peruvians  (Gar.  bk.  vii,  c.  6 ; Mark. 
“ Reports,”  53)  — Sandwich  Is.  (Ell.  “ Hawaii,”  126)  — Fijians  (U.  S.  Ex.  Ex. 

iii,  79) — Chibchas  (Sim.  269) — Mexicans  (Clav.  bk.  vii,  chs.  22  & 24).  § 411. 

Thlinlceets  (Banc,  i,  109) — China  (Halde,  i,  278).  § 412.  Africa  (Speke,  ref. 

lost;  Heug.  92)  — Greeks  (Guhl,  232) — Sandwich  Is.  (Cook  “Hawk.  Yoy.”  ii, 
192) — Tonga  (Cook  “ Hawk.  Yoy.”  i,  87  ) — Fundah  (Laird  i,  202) — Arabs  (Pal. 
153,  new  ed.) — Gaul  (Quich.  25-31  ; 57-66) — Rome  (Guhl,  485)  — Madagascar 
(Ell.  “Hist.”  i,  279  — Siam  (Loub.  i,  75) — Mongol  (Bell  “ Pink.  Voy.”  vii;  357)  — 
France  (Legrand  D’Aussy,  Fab.  ii,  231*2) — China  (Staun.  244) — Japan  (Koem. 
43).  § 413.  Guatemala  (Urrutia,  Athenceum,  1856,  p.  1537)  — Chibchas 

(Pied.  bk.  i,  ch.  2) — Cimbri  (Aikin,  17) — Ashantee  (Dup.  71) — Malagasy  (Ell. 
“ Hist.”  i,  283) — Dakotas  (Lew  & Cl.  44) — Kukis  (Jour.  As.  Soc.  Bengal,  xxiv, 
646) — Dyaks  (Boyle,  95) — New  Zealand  (Thom,  i,  164) — Mandans( Cat.  i,  100) — 
Nagas  (Jour.  As.  Soc.  Ben.  viii,  464) — Hottentots  (Kol.  i,  198)  — Snakes  (Lew. 
& Cl.  315)  — Congo  (Tuck.  362)  — Chibchas  (Acos.  219) — Mexicans  (Clav.  bk. 
vii,  ch.  22) — Ava  (Syme  in  “Pink.  Yoy.”  ix,  495) — Chibchas  (Sim.  253) — Peru 
(Gar.  bk.  iv,  ch.  11) — France  (reference  lost) — New  Zealanders  (Cook  “ Hawk. 
Voy.”  iii,  457)  — Astrachan  (Bell,  i,  43).  § 414.  Rome  (Mom.  ii,  316-17  ; 

Guhl,  497-8)  — France  (reference  lost).  § 415.  Tahitians  (Ell.  “Pol.  Res.” 
ii,  354) — Rome  (Mom.  i,  69) — Mexicans  (Torq.  bk.  xiv,  ch.  4) — Peru  (Gar.  bk. 

i, ch.  213) — Rome  (Guhl,  480) — Russia  (Cust.  163;  Wag.  ii, 21) — Germany  (Spen. 

ii,  176).  § 416.  Lombock  (Wal.  i,  344) — Burma  (Yule,  163) — Siam  (Bowr. 

125) — Dacotahs  (School,  iv,  69) — Abipones  (Dob.  ii,  106) — Mislimis  (Jour.  As. 
Soc.  Ben.  v,  195) — Bambarans  (Cail.  i,  377) — Gold  Coast  (Bos.  112).  § 417. 

Guatemala  (Juar.  194-5)  — Tanna  (Tur.  “Poly.”  77)  — Mexicans  (Dur.  i,  55; 
Her.  iii,  198) — Hottentot  (Kol.  i,  50-51) — Egyptians  ( Wilk.  v,  279-82).  § 418. 

Mexico  (Clav.  bk.  vii,  ch.  20) — Dahomey  (Dal.  98;  Bur.  i,  217) — Japan  (Stein. 
53) — Burmah  (Yule,  139;  Sang.  127  ; Sj  me  i,  112  & 218-19).  § 419.  Chib - 


REFERENCES. 


673 


chas  (Sim.  253)  —Madagascar  (Ell.  “Hist.”  i,  283) — Homans  (Guhl,  513) — - 
Japan  (Koem.  70) — China  (Will.  S.W.  i,  401) — Turkey  (White,  i,  43) — Siam 
(Bowr.  117)  — Congo  (Bas.  “Af.  R.”  57) — Assyrians  (Raw.  i,  495) — India 
(Bur.  iii,  141) — Siam  (Bowr.  i,  425) — China  (Gutz.  ii,  278) — Java  (Raf.  i, 
312) — Ancient  America  (Torq.  bk.  xi,  ch.  18) — Dahomey  (Waitz,  ii,  87) — 
Siamese  (Bowr.  i,  116)  — Jololoffs  (Bas.  “ Af.  R.”  57).  §420.  Tasma- 

nians (Bon.  64) — Australia  (Sturt  ii,  54) — Khoncl  (Macph.  56) — Tahiti  (Ell. 
“Poly.”  i,  221) — Fijians  (U.  S.  Ex.  iii,  332) — Fiji  (See.  179) — Chibchas 
(Sim.  253) — San  Salvador  (Her.  iv,  149) — Peru  (Acos.  bk.  iv,  ch.  22). 
§421.  Society  Islands  (Forst.  27l) — Fijian  (Ersk.  “ West  Pac.”  430)  — 
'Sumatra  (Mars.  47)  — Tahiti  (Ell.  “Poly.”  i,  173) — Karague  (Speke  210  & 
231) — Tahiti  (Cham.  s.v.  “Ava”) — Guatemala  (Xim.  157).  § 424.  Fiji 

(Will,  i,  39) — Darfur  (reference  lost) — Burgundy  (Quich.  298-9) — France 
(Le  Roi,  see  Ste.  Beuve).  § 425.  Hew  Zealand  (Ang.  i,  319;  Thom,  i, 
190).  § 428.  Abyssinia  (Bruce  vi,  16) — Mexicans  (Clay.  bk.  yi,  ch.  20). 

§ 429.  Fiji  (Ersk.  “West  Pac.”  462;  Wil.  i,  39;  i,  37) — Uganda  (Speke 
298;  Stan,  i,  369  ; Speke  256  & 258)  - Siamese  (Bowr.  i,  435) — Fiji  (U.  S. 
Ex.  Ex.  iii,  326) — Loango  (Ast.  iii,  226) — Ashantee  (Cruic.  i,  109) — Siamese 
(Loub.  i,  186  & 172) — China  (Nieulioffi  in  yii,  “Pink.  Voy.”  265;  Hue 
“Chin.  Empire,”  i,  212) — Japan  (Dick.  45) — Russia  (Cust.  93) — Siamese 
(Loub.  i,  172;  Bowr.  i,  435) — Burma  (Syme,  i,  282-3)  — China  (Will.  S.W. 
i,  509;  Hue,  Chin,  ii,  289).  § 431.  Russia  (Cust.  160).  § 432. 

China  (Will.  S.W.  i,  509).  § 437.  Santals  (Hunt,  i,  248) — Sowrahs 

(Shortt,  Pt.  iii,  38) — Todas  (Hark.  18;  Metz,  13;  Hark.  17) — Tipperahs 
(Hunt.  “ Stat.”  yi,  53) — Marias  [ Goads']  (Glas.  No.  xxxix,  41) — Khonds 
(Macph.  yii,  196)  — Santals  (Hunt,  i,  215-6) — Lepchas  (Camp.  “ J.  E.  S.  L.” 
July,  1869) — Bodo  Sf  Dhimals  (Hodg.  xyiii,  745) — Carnatics  (Hunt.  “Die.” 
9-10) — Chakmas  (Hunt.  “ Stat.”  yi,  48) — Santals  (Hunt,  i,  215-6 ; Dalt.  217) 
— Bodo  Sf  Dhimals  (Hodg.  xyiii,  745) — Lepchas  (Hook,  i,  175;  Camp.  “ J.  E. 
S.  L.”  July,  1869) — New  Guinea  (D’Alb.  in  “Trans.  Col.  Inst.”  Dec.  17, 
1878) — Fijians  (Ersk.  i.  272) — Dahomey  (Burt,  i,  195,  note  ; ibid,  ii,  190, 
note) — Mexicans  (Tern.  Comp,  i,  212 ; Clay.  bk.  yi,  ch.  18;  Diaz.  ch.  28; 
Her.  iii,  208-9  ; ibid,  iv,  213) — Cent.  Americans  (Land.  § xxiv;  Gall,  i,  104; 
Her.  iii,  223;  Pres.  bk.  i,  ch.  4;  Her.  iv,  174) — Veddahs  (Bail,  ii,  228; 
Ten.  ii,  444;  Prid.  460).  § 442.  Digger  Indians  (Kel.  i,  252) — Chaco 

Indians  (Hutch.  280) — Bedouins  (Pal.  15) — Unyoro  (Bak.  “ Eth.  Trans.” 
1867) — New  Zealand  (Hawk,  iii,  470) — Beluchees  (“  Jour.  Eth.  Soc.”  i, 
109)  — Greeks  (Cur.  i,  115-6) — Carolingians  (Dun.  i,  101).  § 443. 

'Egyptians  (Wilk.  i,  330-336) — Roman  (Lact.  cc.  7,  23,  Salv.  bk.  v)  —France 
(Guiz.  iii,  251-2;  Clam,  i,  355-438  ; ii,  160-230  ; i,  pp.  xxv-vi) — Gwalior 
(“  The  Statesman,”  Aug.  1880,  218-19)  — Byzantium  (Gib.  ch.  Iii). 
§ 446.  Rome  (Dur.  iii,  126-7).  § 448.  Bechuanas  (Burch,  ii,  532)  — 

Greeks  (Horn.  “Iliad,”  bk.  i )— Khonds  (Macph.  43).  §449.  Semi - 

notes  and  Snakes  (School,  v,  260) — Peruvians  (Squ.  Peru,  18,  19;  Cie. 
ch.  xiii) — Abors  (Dal.  “ Jour.  As.  Soc.  Bengal,”  xiv,  426) — Damaras 
(Gal.  232-3) — Rookies  (Stew.  “ Jour.  As.  Soc.  Bengal,”  xxiv,  633) — 
Mishmees  (Coop.  228) — Bachassins  (Burch,  ii,  512).  § 450.  Bushmen 

(Lich.  ii,  194) — Rock  Veddahs  (Ten.  ii,  440) — S.  Americans  (Humb.  ii, 
412) — Athenians  (Gro.  iii,  88) — Romans  (Mom.  i,  65) — Greeks  (Gro.  iii, 
77) — Rome  (Coul.  135-8;  Mom.  i,  67) — India  (Maine,  106-7)  — Greeks 
(Gro.  ii,  312-3).  § 451.  Karens  (Mason,  “ J.  A.  S.  B.”  xxxvii,  Pt.  ii, 

152) — Hottentots  (Kol.  i,  287) — New  Cal.  (Tur.  84) — Samoa  (Tur.  290) — 
Israelites  (Dun.  ii,  99) — Greece  (Gro.  iv,  431;  ii,  359) — Fulbe  (Bar.  ii, 
509) — Damaras  (Gal.  “ Jour.  Roy.  Geo.  Soc.,”  1852,  159) — Peru  (Onde. 
Narratives,  152-3)  — Greece  (Gro.  ii,  393).  § 452.  Patagonians  (Falk. 

121  2) — Chinooks  (Kane,  214) — Kalmucks , Spc.  (Pallas,  i,  188) — Abipones 


674 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


(Dob.  ii,  105) — Balonda  (Liv.  208) — Kukis  (M’Cull.  Selecs.  xxvii,  58) — 
American  Indians  { Mor.  341) — Britain  (Bur.  ii,  152-3;  Mart,  i,  343) — - 
Mexicans  (Zurita,  240) — Peru  (Garc.  bk.  iy,  ch.  8,  and  bk.  v,  ch.  9) — Japanese 
(Dickson  305).  § 454.  Fuegians  ([Cook]  “ Hawkesworth’s  Voyages, ” ii, 

p.  58) — Coroados  (Spix  and  Martius  ii,  244).  § 455.  Podo  and  Dhimals 

(Ilodg.  157 )—Lepchas  (Camp.  “ J.  E.  S.  L.,”  July,  1869).  §456. 

1 V.A.  Indians  (Kane,  214) — NootJcas  (Banc,  i,  195)  — Vera  Paz  (Xim.  202-3) 
— Honduras  (Her.  iv,  135) — Dyaks  (St.  J.  i,  104).  § 457.  Few 

Zealanders  (Thom.i,  148) — Sandwich  Islands  (Ellis,  397) — Fiji  (Ersk.  W.Pac. 
461) — Scot.  (Maine,  E.  I.,  133) — British  (Pear.  1-12) — Fnglish  (Stubbs  ii, 
493) — Scotland  (Innes,  Mid.  Ages  141-2).  § 458.  Fgypt  (Shar.  I,  66  ; 

Ken.  II,  42) — Borne  (Mom.  i,  95) — Germans  (Stubbs  30-31, note) — Fnglish 
(Kem.  i,  69 ; Hall,  M.A.  ch.  yiii) — Egyptians  (Wilk.  [S.B.  in  new  ed.]  I, 
150) — Roman  (Coul.,  K.  d.  D.  M.,  xcix,  246) — England  (Hall,  M.  A.  ch.  ii, 
pt.  i;  Bee. i,  34-6).  § 459.  Banish  (Maine, E.  1.84-5) — Med.  Fur . (Free, 

H.C.  i,  96-7).  § 460.  Fijians  (See.  179  ; U.  S.  Ex.  Ex.  iii,  73) — Sand- 

wich Islanders  (Ellis,  7) — Tahitians  (Ellis’s  “Pol.  Res.”  ii,  16) — Africa 
(Rea.  241).  § 461.  Sandwich  Islanders  (Ell.  “ Haw.”  392).  § 462. 

China  (Gutz.  ii,  305) — France  (Cher.  “ Hist.”  ii,  116-8;  Warn,  i,  549-50) 
— Hottentots  (Thomp.  ii,  30) — Bechuanas  (Burch,  ii,  347) — ChinooJcs  (Wai. 
iii,  338) — Albania  (Boue.  iii,  254) — Maine,  E.  H.  of  I.  134) — France 
(A.  L.  F.  ii,  645).  § 464.  Australians  (Sm.  i,  103) — Chippewas , &c. 

(School.  C.  P.  137,  et  seq.) — Cent.  Amer.  (Banc,  i,  702) — Khonds  (Macph. 
32  and  27) — New.  Zea.  (Thom.  95) — Tahitians  (Ell.  P.  R.  ii,  363)  — 
Madag.  (Ell.  M.  i,  378) — Phoenicians  (Mov.  ii,  540 — 1) — Greeks  (Gro.  ii, 
92) — Pr.  Ger.  (Tac.  Ger.  xi  in  Free.  “Eng.  Const.”  17) — Iceland  (Mall. 
N.  A.  291-5) — Swiss  (Free.  E.  C.  pp.  1-7) — Old  Fng.  (Free.  E.  C.  60). 
§ 466.  Greenlanders  (Crantz  i,  164-5) — Australians  (Sturt  ii,  117,  276)  — 
Salish  (Hale  in  U.  S.  Ex.  Ex.  vi,  207-8;  Domenech’s  Deserts,  ii,  343-4)  — 
Bodo  and  Dhimals  (Hodg.  157) — Australians  (Grey  ii,  240) — Snakes  (L. 
and  C.  306)  — Chinooks  (L.  and  C.  443) — Dakotas  (School,  ii,  182)  — Creeks 
(School,  i,  275) — Khirgiz  (Wood,  338) — Ostyaks  (“  Rev.  Sib.”  ii,  269) — Nag  as 
(But.  146) — For.  Hottentots  (Thomp.  ii,  30) — Kaffirs  (Lich.  i,  286). 
§ 467.  Tupis  (Sou.  i,  250) — Juangs  (Dalt.  156) — Kor.  Hottentots  (Thomp. 
ii,  30) — Kaffirs  (Shoo.  102) — Damaras  (“Jour.  Eth.  Soc.”  iii,  2) — Arauca - 
nians  (Smi.  243) — Dyalcs  (Broo.  i,  129) — Malagasy  (Ell.  H.  M.  i,  146)  — 
Savages  (Lubb.  “ Orig.  of  Civil.,”  303) . § 468.  Arafuras  (Kolf.  161) — 

Khirgiz  (Mich.  248) — Sumatrans  (Mars.  217) — Madag.  (Ell.  “ Hist. 
Madag.”  i,  377) — Fast  Africans  (Bur.  C.  A.  ii,  360) — Javans  (Raff,  i,  274) 
- — Sumatra  (Mars.  217) — Ashantee  (Beech.  90,  et  seq.).  § 469.  Congo 
(Proy.  Pink,  xvi,  577) — Dahomans  (Bur.  i,  263).  § 471.  Nicobarians 

(Bast,  ii,  384) — Haidahs  (Banc,  i,  168) — Californians  (Banc,  i,  348) — 
Navajos  (Banc,  i,  508) — Angamies  (Stew.  “ J.  A.  S.  B.”  xxiv,  650) — Loiver 
Californians  (Banc,  i,  365) — Flatheads  (Banc,  i,  275) — Sound  Indians  (Banc. 

i,  217) — Loiver  Californians  (Banc,  i,  565) — Chippewayans  (Frank.  159) — 

Coroados  (Spix,  ii,  244) — Abipones  (Dob.  ii,  102) — Bedouins  (“Rambles  in 
Syria,”  p.  9) — African  (Bur.  “Ab.”  i,  276).  § 472.  Khonds  (Camp.  50) 

— Cent.  India  (Fcrs.  9) — Bushmen  (Burch,  i,  458) — Fuegians  (Fitz.  ii,  178) 
- — Rock  Veddahs  (Ten.  ii,  440) — Dyalcs  (St.  J.  i,  375) — Caribs  (Edw.  i,  48) 
Bushmen  (Lich.  ii,  194) — Tasmanians  (Lloyd,  56  ; [Dove]  Tas.  J.  i,  253) — 
Tapajos  (Bates,  271) — Bedouins  (Bur.  iii,  44) — Greece  (Gro.  ii,  87)— 
Scot.  (Martin,  101) — Snake  Indians  (L.  and  C.  306) — Creeks  (School,  v,  279) 
— Comanches  (School,  ii,  130) — Coroados  (Spix,  ii,  234)  — Ostyaks  (“  Rev.  Sib.’* 

ii,  269) — Tacullies  (Banc,  i,  123) — Tolewas  (Banc,  i,  348) — Spokanes  (Wilkes’ 

Xar.  in  U.  S.  Ex.  Ex.  iv,  475-6) — Navajos  (Banc,  i,  50S) — Dors  (Heuglin, 
395) — Arabs  (Burck.  i,  300) — Sumatra  (Mars.  211).  § 473.  Austra • 


REFERENCES. 


675 


lians  (“Trans.  Eth.  Soc.,”  New  Ser.  iii,  256) — Comanches  (School,  i,  231) — 
Flatheads  (Banc,  i,  275) — Dyalcs  (Low,  209;  St.  J.  i,  223)  — Caribs  (Edw. 
i,  48) — Abipones  (Dob.  ii,  103) — Egypt  (Tay.  16) — Rome  (Mom.  i,  79)  — 
Germans  (Sohm.  i,  9) — French  (Ranke,  i,  75).  § 474.  ThlinJceets  (Banc, 

iii,  148) — Fuegians  (Fitz.  ii,  178) — Tasmanians  (Bon.  175) — Haidahs  (Banc, 
iii,  150) — Dakotas  (School,  iv,  495) — Obbo  (Baker,  i,  317-9) — Mexicans 
(Banc,  iii,  295;  Clay.  bk.  vii,  ch.  7) — Chibchas  (Pied.  bk.  ii,  ch.  17) — Egypt 
(Brug.  i,  406) — Jews  (“Supernatural  Religion,”  i,  117) — Amazulu  (Call. 
310,  note  86).  § 475.  Egypt  (Shar.  ii,  2) — Coroados  (Spix,  ii,  244) — 

Santals  (Hunt,  i,  216)  — Khonds  (Macph.  47).  § 476.  Raida hs  (Banc, 

i,  187) — Fiji  (See.  232) — Tahitians  (Ell.  P.  R.  ii,  346;  Hawk,  ii,  121) — - 
Madagascar  (Ell.  H.  M.  i,  342) — Reru  (Grom.  ch.  124;  Garc.  bk.  iv,  ch.  9)  — 
Egypt  (Bru.  44  in  Wilk.  i,  160  -2) — Ceglon  (Ten.  i,  479;  ii,  459) — New 
Caledonia  (Zur.  426) — Madagascar  (Ell.  i,  342) — Abyssinia  (Bruce  iv, 
488)  — Timmanees  (Wint.  i,  124) — Kaffir  (Arb.  149) — Aragon  (Hall,  ii, 
43-4).  §477.  Amazulu  (Call.  208;  390)—  KuJcis  (Stew.  “ J.A.S.B.” 

xxiv,  625) — Tahitians  (Ell.  P.R.  ii,  341) — Tonga  (Mar.  ii,  76) — Reru, 
(Grarc.  bk.  i,  ch.  23) — Egyptians  (Wilk.  i,  321-2;  Brug.  ii,  35-36)  — 
Siam  (Turp.  591)  — Aryans  (Giro,  i,  618) — Chibchas  (P.  Simon,  261-2). 
§478.  Chinooks  (L.  and  C.  443;  Wai.  iii,  338) — Ratagonians  (Falk. 
121) — Borneo  (Low,  183)  — Sabines  (Seel.  71) — Germans  (Dunh.  i,  17)  — 
Dyaks  (Boy.  183) — Kalmucks  (Pall,  i,  188) — Araucanians  (Thomp.  i, 
4 5) — Kaffirs  (Lich.  i,  286) — Greeks  (Gtlad.  iii,  11) — Karens  (Mason, 
“ J.A.S.B.”  xxxvii,  Pt.  ii,  131)  — Congo  (Bast.  Af.  R.  58)  — Yariba 
(Lan.  Clap,  ii,  223) — Ibu  (All.  and  T.  i,  234) — Kukis  (But.  91) — Greeks 
(Glad.  iii,  51) — Rome  (Seel.  55-6) — Germany  (Hall,  ii,  67-68) — French 
(Hall.  ch.  i) — Merovingians  (Wai.  [Geo.]  45-6,  102) — France  (Meray 
Trouv.  45-6;  Boss.  bk.  iv,  art.  1;  St.  Sim.  iii,  69).  § 479.  Zulus  (Mann 

“ T.E.S.”  New  Series,  v,  291) — Bheels  (Mai.  “ C.I.”  i,  551) — Loango  (Ast. 
iii,  223;  Proy.  Pink,  xvi,  557) — Wasoro  (Bur.  C.A,  ii,  360) — Msamhara 
(Krapf  384,  note) — Dahome  (Bur.  i,  226) — Malagasi  (Ell.  H.M.  i,  341) — - 
Sandwich  Islands  (Ell.  Haw.  401) — Siam  (Bowr.  i,  423) — Burmah  (Sang. 
58)— China  (Gutz.  ii,  252) — Japan  (Ad.  i,  11).  § 480.  Tonga  (Ersk. 

126)  — Gondar  (Harr,  iii,  10,  34) — Bhotan  (Ren.  15-16) — Japan  (Ad.  i,  74, 
17;  Tits.  223.  Ad.  i,  11,  70) — Merovingian  (Egin.  123-4).  §483. 

Arafuras  (Kolf.  161) — Todas  (Shortt  “ T.E.S.L.,”  N.S.,  vii,  241) — Bodo 
and  Dhimdls  (“T.A.S.B.,”  xviii,  708) — Papuans  (Kolf.  6) — Lepchas  (Camp. 
“ J.E.S.L.”  July  1869) — Nagas  (Stew.  “J.A.S.B.”  xxiv,  608;  Grange 
“J.A.S.B.”  ix,  950) — Comanches  (School,  ii,  130;  Banc,  i,  509) — Central 
America  (Squi.  ii,  340-1) — Nagas  (Stew.  “ J.A.S.B.”  xxiv,  607) — Africa 
(Bur.  “ Abeo.”  i,  276).  §485.  Greece  (Toz.  284-5;  Her.  14;  Gro.  ii, 

104) — Scotland  (Ske.  iii,  323-4) — Crete  (Cur.  ii,  182;  ii,  178-9) — Corinth 
(Gro.  iii,  2) — Sparta  (Gro.  ii,  612) — Latins  (Mom.  i,  30;  80;  87;  84). 
§ 486.  Venice  (Sis.  i,  300-313)—  Netherlands  (Gra.  10,  11,  20;  Mot.  i,  34) 
— Switz.  (Vieus.  39) — Grisons  (May’s  “ Democ.”  i,  355) — San.  Mar.  (Bent, 
in  “ Fraser’s  Mag.”  for  Dec.  1880).  § 487.  Ital.  Repub.  (Sis.  [Lard.] 

21;  Sis.  i,  374;  Sis.  [Lard.]  22;  83).  §488.  Sparta  (Gro.  ii,  467; 

485) — Rome  (Mom.  ii,  326) — Ital.  Repub.  (Hall,  i,  368;  Sis.  [Lard.]  280)  — 
Holland  (May,  ii,  17-18)  — Berne  (May’s  “Democ.”  i,  373) — Venice  (Sis. 
[Lard.]  121)  — Greece  (Gro.  iv,  25;  Cur.  i,  250) — Romans  (Macch.  iii,  428-9) 
— Ital.  Repub.  (Sis.  [Lard.]  80) — Athens  (Gro.  iii,  182-3-4) — Rome  (Mom. 
i,  98;  i,  53) — Italian  Repub.  (May’s  “ Democ.”  i,  281-2).  § 490. 

Samoa  (Tur.  284) — Fulahs  (L.  and  O.  ii,  85) — Mandingo  St.  (Park  i,  18). 
§ 491.  Italian  Rep.  (Sis.  [Lard.]  22) — Roles  (Dunh.  278-9;  285) — Hun- 
garians (Levy,  165)  — Germans  (Stubbs,  i,  55) — Merov.  (Rich.  119-20) — - 
Appenzell  (Lav.  65)  — Uri  (Free.  5) — Scandinavia  (C.  and  W.,  i,  258  and 
20 


676 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


101)  — Tatars  (Gib.  ii,  16) — Sparta  (Gro.  iii,  7).  § 492.  Kaffirs  (Licli.  i, 

286) — Bechuanas  (Moff.  248)  — Wanyamwezi  (Bur.  C.  A.  ii,  360) — Ashantee 
(Beech.  90) — Mexico  (Zur.  106;  Clay.  bk.  yiii,  ch.  13)  — Vera  Paz  (Tor.  bk. 
xi,  ch.  20) — Poland  (Dunh.  278-9;  282)  — Germans  (Hall,  ii,  92) — Madag. 
(Ell.  M.  ii,  252) — Hebrews  (I  Samuel,  ch.  XV)—  Tahitians  (Ell.  P.K.  ii, 
486) — Mexicans  (Sah.  bk.  yiii,  ch.  24) — Egypt  (Wilk.  i,  159) — France 
(Both.  F.,  317-20  ; Gui.iii,  249).  § 493.  Denmark  (C.  and  W.  i,  262-  3) 

— France  (Bich.  119-20) — Madag.  (Ell.  H.  M.,  i,  378) — England  (Free.  60). 
§ 494.  Egypt  (Wilk.  i,  160) — Persia  (Mai.  i,  549-50 ; ii,  303  ; Baw.  iii, 
223) — China  (Will,  i,  324) — France  (Boss.  Pol.  bk.  iy,  art.  1;  y,  4;  Sey. 
Pul.  i,  8-9;  St-Sim.  iii,  69) — Pome  (Mom.  i,  71-2;  ii,  361;  iii,  361) — ■ 
Poland  (Dunh.  2S2).  § 496.  Scandinavia  (O.  and  W.,  i,  158) — Hun - 

gary  (Patfc.  i,  66  ; i,  253-4) — Pome  (Dur.  iii,  376-8).  § 498.  Greece 

(Gro.  iii,  126,  129) — Italy  (Sis.  [L.]  23-4;  291) — Spain  (Dun.  iv,  158)  — 
England  (Hume,  chap.  xii).  § 499.  Spain  (Hall.  [4th  Ed.]  251)  — 
France  (Hall.  [4th]  143 — Scotland  (Burt,  ii,  168).  § 500.  Scandinavia 

(Mall.  291-5) — France  (Guiz.  i,  355;  Mor.  (2)  379-80) — England  (Stubbs, 
i,  397) — Holland  (Mot.  i,  32) — Anglo- Sax.  (Stubbs,  i,  cont.  of  ch.  vii)  — 
Spain  (Dun.  iv,  158) — England  (Stubbs,  i,  398).  § 501.  England 

(Hume,  appen.  ii ; Stubbs,  i,  117)— -France  (Hall.  [4th  Ed.]  121) — Spain 
(Hall.  4,  262  ; 263  ; 265) — France  (Dar.  [2]  ii,  57-8  ; Clam,  ii,  3-4 ; Dar.  i, 
7 8) — Scotland  (Innes,  “Leg.  An.,”  116).  § 502.  France  (Ord.  ii,  201) 

— Hungary  (Levy,  165) — Scotland  (Innes,  “Leg.  An.,”  119)—  England 
(Hume,  chap.  xvih).  § 504.  Egypt  (Wilk.  i,  324-5;  v,  295-6) — Assyria 
(Baw.  iv,  175) — England  (Kem.  ii,  105-11) — Hebrews  (Ew.  iii,  266-7) — 
Pome  (Dur.  iii,  175) — France  (Gon.  322) — Eggarahs  (All.  and  T.  i,  327) — 
Mizteca  (Her.  iii,  261).  § 505.  Carolingian  (Stubbs,  i,  344) — Normans 

and  Old  English  (Stubbs,  i,  344) — Scot.  (Innes,  120 — 1) — Pussia  (Fowler, 
i,  379) — France  (Jer.  ii.  ch.  2,  158-9;  Kit.  iii,  210) — England  (Turn,  vi, 
132).  § 508.  Tahiti  (Ell. P. B. ii,  267) — England  (Kem.  ii,  142) — France 

(Gui.  iii,  233) — Mexico , fyc.  (Zur.  66-7)  — Chibchas  (Acos.  188-90) — Med . 
Europe  (Maine,  V.  C.  [3rd  Ed.]  235-6).  § 509.  England  (Free,  i,  80; 

Fis.  301;  Hall.  M.A.  ch.  viii).  § 510.  Feudal  (Maine,  E.  1.77) — France 
(Mau.  cvii,  585) — Persians  (Baw.  iy,  418;  427-8) — Pome  (Dur.  v,  83-4) — 
France  (Thie.  T.  C.  i,  365-6;  Cher.  Hist,  ii,  138-9) — England  (Hall.  C.  H. 
ch.  xii).  § 511.  Bedouins  (Burck.  5;  Pal.  “ Ency.  Brit.”  ii,  249) — Irish 
(Maine,  E.  I.  105-7) — Albania  (Boue,  ii,  86;  iii,  359) — England  (You. 
147).  § 512.  Mexico  (Zur.  50  -62) — Pussia  (Lav.  8, 1) — Teutons  (Stubbs, 

i,  49;  Caesar,  vi,  22;  Kem.  i,  56-7) — Bakwains  (Liv.  S.A.  14) — Japan  (Ale. 

ii,  241-2) — Franks  (Kem.  i,  238) — England  (Thor,  i,  274;  386;  450) — 

Pussia  (Kou.  228-9).  § 513.  England  (Kem.  i,  240-3;  Stu.  68) — Peru 

(Pres,  i,  143) — Mexico  (Clav.  bk.  vii,  ch.  5 ; Gom.  438) — Egypt  (Heer.  ii, 
139) — Greece  (Her.  § 5)  — China  (Will.  M.  K.  i,  388) — India  (Gho.  in  Cal. 
Pev.  for  1880) — Scandinavia  (Aug.  Thierry,  quoted  by  Mazaroz,  85 ; Bren, 
lxviii) — England  (Bren,  cxxix).  § 516.  Siam  (Loub.  237-8) — Ashantee 
(Beech.  129) — Fulahs  (L.  ar.d  O.  86) — Pome  (Mom.  i,  99-100).  § 517. 
Suevi  (Stubbs,  i,  14).  § 518.  Guaranis  (Waitz,  iii,  422) — Nicaragua 

(Squ.  ii,  341) — Bedouins  (Burck.  i,  296-7) — Tahiti  (Forst.  377) — Hebrews 
(2  Sam.  xxi,  17) — Carolingian  (Waitz,  iv,  522-3) — Japan  (Adam,  i,  15- 
16) — Peru  (Pres.  Peru,  bk.  i,  ch.  2).  § 519.  Hottentots  (Kol.  i,  815) — 

Malagasy  (Ell.  H.  M.  ii,  253) — Chibchas  (Sim.  269) — Pome  (Coul.  C.  A.  148) 

* — Germans  (Stubbs,  i,  30) — Old  England  (Kem.  i,  69) — France  (Kitchin,  i, 
399 ; Froiss.  i,  168) — Sparta  (Gro.  ii,  614) — i2owe(Mom.  i,  98-9).  § 520. 

France  (Banke,  i,  83).  § 522.  Chinooks  (Waitz,  iii,  338) — Arabs  (Bur. 

iii,  47) — Italy  (Sis  [L.]  90)  — France  (Maine,  Fort.  Pev.  Nov.,  1881,  p.  614) 

England  (Bee,  i,  153-4) — France  (Gui.  iii,  180).  § 523.  Hot  ten- 


REFERENCES* 


677 


tots  (Kol.  i,  294-9) — Greece  (Giro,  ii,  99-100) — Rome  (Mom.  i,  159) — Ger • 
mans  ( Tac.  Germ.  xii) — Danes  (C.  and  W.  i,  230) — Irish  (Les.  in  “ Fort.  Rev.” 
March  1875).  § 524.  Hebrews  (Deut.  xxi,  19) — Romans  (Mom.  i,  158) 

— France  (Join.  ch.  xii) — Carolingian  (Mor.  C.  C.  E.  [2]  379-80;  Sohm,  i, 
§ 16).  § 525.  Zulus  (Arb.  140 )—Fggarahs  (All.  and  T.  i,  326) — Ger- 

mans  (Tac.  Germ.  c.  7) — Scandinavia  (Grim,  i,  93-4).  § 526.  Rent 

(Her.  iv,  337) — Germany  (Dunh.  i,  120) — France  (Bay.  i,  70-1) — Scotland 
(Innes,  “ L.  A.”  221) — Fngland  (Stubbs,  i,  391;  i,  600).— France  (Hall, 
126-7).  § 527.  Bedouins  (“  Ram.  in  Syria,”  p.  9) — Mexicans  (Dur.  i, 

216) — Athens  (Cur.  ii,  450) — France  and  Germany  (Black,  iii,  41) — France 
(Due.  11-12;  A.  L.,  F.,  v.  346-7;  Dar.  (2)  i,  273) — Fngland  (Fis.  238; 
Stubbs,  ii,  268).  § 528.  (Maine,  “ E,  1.”  288-9).  § 529.  Sand- 

wich I,  (Ell.  399) — Bechuanas  (Burck.  i,  544-5)- — Karens  (Mason,  “ J.  A.  S.  B.” 
xxxvii,  pt.  ii,  131) — France  (Koenigs.  185-6).  § 530.  Scandinavia  (Mall. 

117) — Egypt  (Rec.  ii,  11;  xii,  47-8) — Bern  (Santa  Cr.  107;  Gar.  bk.  i, 
ch.  23) — Tahitians  (Ell.  P.  ii,  235) — Todas  (Metz,  17) — Hebrews  (2  Sam.  v. 
22-25) — India  (Maine,  “A.  L.”  18) — Greece  (Gro.  ii,  111;  Her.  48) — 
France  (Hinc.  D.  O.  P.  ii,  201).  § 531.  Assyrians  (Lay.  ii,  473 -4) — 

Greeks  (Tie.  217-8;  Coul.  221  )—Fgypt  (Wilk.  i,  164).  § 532.  Zulus 

(Arb.  p.  16,  note) — Peru  (Pres.  bk.  i,  ch.  2) — Mexicans  (Tern.  Comp,  i,  78) 
— Japan  (Pemb.  Yoy.  vi,  624-5) — France  (Greg,  vii,  21) — Peruvians  (Garc. 
bk.  ii,  ch.  12) — Japan  (Ale.  63) — Rome  (Mom.  i,  159) — Salic  (Gui.  i, 
463-4) — Scotland  (Innes,  197) — Fngland  (Stubbs,  i,  183).  § 533. 

Chippewayans  (School,  v,  177) — Shoshones  (Banc,  i,  435) — Haidahs  (Bams, 
i,  168)— Sandwich  I.  (Ell.  H.  A00)— Greece  (Gro.  ii,  108,  110-11,  130)— 
Rome  (Maine,  “ A.  L.”  372;  Mom.  ii,  130) — Basutos  (Arb.  37) — Abyssinia 
(Par.  ii,  204) — Sumatra  (Mars.  249,  220) — Dakotas  (School,  ii,  185) — 
2V".  Americans  (Kane,  115) — Dakotas  (Mor.  331) — Araucanians  (Thomp.  i, 
405).  § 536.  Bushmen  (Lich.  ii,  194) — Chippeivayans  (Banc,  i,  118)  — 

Arawaks  (J.  R.  G.  S.  ii,  231).  § 537.  Ahts  (Banc,  i,  191) — Comanches 

(School,  i,  232) — Brazilians  (Yon  Martius  in  “ J.  R.  G.  S.”  ii,  195) — Chip- 
pewayans (School,  v,  177) — Bedouins  (Burck.  i,  228).  § 538.  Recha - 

bites,  d^c.  (Ew.  iv,  79-80;  Kue.  i,  181-2) — Dakotas  (School,  ii,  185) — 
Comanches  (School,  ii,  131) — Iroquois  (Mor.  326) — Bechuanas  (Burck.  ii, 
531) — Damaras  (And.  114)  —Kafirs  (Shoot.  16) — Koosas  (Lich.  i,  271) — Few 
Zealanders  (Thom.  96) — Sumatrans  (Mars.  244) — Mexicans  (Sart.  6 7-8)  — 
Damaras  (And.  147) — Todas  (Marsh.  206)—  Congo  (Pink,  xvi,  168) — Slavs 
(Lav.  185) — Swiss  (Lav.  82) — Hebrews  (May,  i,  362) — Rome  (Mom.  i,  160, 
193)  — Teutons  (Stubbs  i,  49-50).  § 539.  Drentlie  (Lav.  282) — Ar- 

dennes (Lav.  301) — Lombardy  (Lav.  214) — France  (Lav.  212) — Abyssinia 
(Bruce  iv,  462) — Kongo  (Art.  iii,  258) — Mexico  (Tern.  Comp,  i,  254)  —Iceland 
(Mall.  289) — Swiss  (Lav.  83).  § 540.  Slavs  (Lav.  189  ; i,  194-5)  — 

Lombardy  (Lav.  216).  § 542.  Dakotas  (School,  iv,  69) — Abipones 

(Dob.  ii,  106) — Patagonians  (Falk.  121-2) — Greece  (Gro.  ii,  84;  85) — 
Germans  (Tac.  xv) — Fngland  (Dyer  3) — Guaranis  (Wai.  iii,  442) — Rome 
(Mom.  i,  275).  § 543.  Loango  (Proy.  Pink,  xvi,  577) — Tongans  (Mars. 

i,  231) — Cashmere  (Drew  68-70) — Kaffirs  (Shoot.  104) — Sandwich  Islands 
(Ell.  H.  292) — Mexico  (Zur.  251) — Yucatan  (Landa  § xx) — Guatemala,  Sfc. 
(Zur.  407 )— Madagascar  (Ell.  M.  i,  316)—  Fiji  (See.  232 )— Tahiti  (Ell.  P.R. 

ii,  361).  § 544.  Fngland  (Stubbs  ii,  562-3).  § 545.  Quanga  and 

Balonda  (Liv.  S.  A.  296,  307 )—Bhils  (Mai.  i,  551-2)  ; 185)—  Mexico  (Clav. 
bk.  vii,  ch.  37) — Greece  (Glad,  iii,  62  ; Pot.  i,  97) — Fngland  (Ling,  iii,  7). 
§ 557.  France  (Dar.  537).  § 558.  Americans  (Hearne,151) — Dahomey 

(Bur.  i,  220-5;  226  ; Dalz.  175  ; Bur.  i,  248  ; i,  52,  note) — Peru  (Gar.  bk. 
ii,  chap,  xv  ; bk.  vi,  chap,  viii ; Bias,  v,  3) — Fgypt  (Shar.  i,  123  ; Brug.  i, 
51  ; Shar.  i,  182) — Sparta  (Gro.  ii,  506;  ii,  527) — Russia  (Cust.  ii,  2;  Wal. 


678 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


I,  419-21;  I,  419;  i,  305,  440;  Oust,  ii,  142;  Bell,  ii,  237).  § 559. 

Rome  (Dur.  iii,  155-60;  iii,  183-7,9;  iii,  173-4;  iii,  172-3;  iii,  176) — 
Italy  (Sis. 8-9).  § 560.  Greeks  (Gro.  ii,  88)  — Jajpan  (Mit.  i,  32) — France 

(Corn,  xxvii  (1873)  72) — Montenegro  (Boue  ii,  86) — Dahomey  (For.  i,  20)  — 
Sparta  (Thirl,  i,  329) — Merovingian  (Amp.  ii,  305 ; Martin  ii,  448) — 
Dahomey  (Bur.  ii,  248) — Japan  (M.  and  C.,  34) — Egypt  (Wilk.  i,  189)— 
Persia  (Raw.  iv,  202) — Araucanians  (Thomp.  i,  406) — Fiji  (Ersk.  464) — • 
Dahomey  (Dalz.  69) — Egypt  (Brug.  i,  53).  § 573.  Tenae  (Dalt.  35)— 

Todas  (Shortt  pt.  i,  9) — Pueblos  (Banc,  i,  546) — Karens  (Gov.  Stat.  p.64; 
McM.  81) — Lepchas  (Hook,  i,  129-30;  Camp.  J.E.  S.  L.  1869,  150-1)  — 
Santdls  (Hunt,  i,  214;  ditto  Stat.  xiv,  330) — Shervaroy  (Shortt,  pt.  ii,  7) — 
Todas  (Shortt,  pt.  i,  7-9;  Hark.  16-17) — Arafuras  (Kolff  161-3) — England 
(Hall.,  chap,  viii) — France  (L6v.  ii,  47-8) — England  (Free.  Sk.  232;  Bage. 
Eng.  Const.) — France  (Taine’3  “ Ancien  Regime”) — England  (Mart.  Intro. 
21-2-3;  Buck,  i,  445-50;  Pike,  ii,  574).  § 574.  Dodo  and  D.  (Hodg. 

J. A.S.B.,  xviii,  745) — Lepchas  (Camp.  J.E.S.,  July  1869) — Santa l (Hunt,  i, 
209 ; Sher.  J.A.S.B  xx,  554) — JaJcuns  (Favre  in  J.I.A.  ii) — Podo  and  D. 
(Hodg.  J.A.S.B.  xviii,  745) — Neilgherry  H.  (Ouch.  69) — Lepchas  (Camp. 
J.E.S.  (1869)  150-1) — Arafuras  (Kolf.  161-3) — Lepchas  (Camp.  J.E.S. 
July  1869;  Hook,  i,  175-6) — Santdls  (Hunt,  i,  217) — Hos  (Dalt.  206)  — 
Todas  (Shortt,  pt,  i,  1) — Shervaroy  H.  (Shortt,  ii,  78) — JaJcuns  (Favre 
J.I.A.  ii) — Malacca  (Jukes,  219-20)—  Podo  and  D.  (Hodg.  J.A.S.B.  xviii, 
745) — Santdl  (Hunt,  i,  209-10) — Lepchas  (Hook,  i,  175-6;  129-30) — ■ 
Arafuras  (Kolf.  163-4) — Lepchas  (Hook,  i,  134)  — Santdls  (Hunt.  208) — 
Podo  and  Dhimals  (Hodg.  J.A.S.B.  xviii,  707) — Santdl  (Hunt,  i,  217) — ■ 
Podo  and  Dhimals  (Hodg.  i,  150) — Todas  (T.E.S.  vii,  254).  Note  to  Chap. 
XVIII.  Poda  and  Dhimals  (Hodg.  “ Kocch,”  162) — Lepchas  (Hook,  i,  135) 
— Santdl  (Hunt,  i,  215-6  ; i,  181) — Lepchas  (Camp.  J.E.S.  July  1869)— 
Arafuras  (Kolf.  159-60). 


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Les. —Leslie  (Prof.)  in  Port.  Rev.  for  1875. 

Ley. — Levasseur  (C.)  Histoire  des  classes  ouvrieres . 1st  and  2nd  Series. 
4 vols.  Paris,  1859-67. 

L.  & C.— Lewis  & Clarke  (Capts.)  Travels  to  the  Source  of  the  Missouri , Sfc. 

London,  1814. 

Levy. — Levy  (Daniel)  If Autriche-Hongrie,  ses  Institutions  et  ses  Nationalites . 
Paris,  1.871. 

Lich. — Lichtenstein  (Henry)  Travels  in  Southern  Africa  in  the  years 
1803-6. 

Liv. — Livingstone  (D.)  South  Africa.  London,  1861. 

Lloyd. — -Lloyd  (Greo.  Thos.)  Thirty-three  years  in  Tasmania  and  Victoria . 
Cr.  8vo.  1862. 

Loub. — Loubere  (M.  de  la)  Du  Royaume  de  Siam  en  1687-88.  Amsterdam, 
1691. 

Low. — Low  (Hugh)  Sarawak,  its  Inhabitants  and  Productions.  8vo.  1848. 
Lubb. — Lubbock  (Sir  John)  The  Origin  of  Civilization  and  the  Primitive 
Condition  of  Man.  London,  1870. 

Macch. — Macchiavelli  (Nic.)  M.’s  works,  translated  by  Farnworth.  1775. 
Macph. — Macpherson,  Report  upon  the  Khonds  of  Ganjani  and  Cuttack . 
Calcutta,  1842. 

Maine. — Maine  (H.  S.)  History  of  Parly  Institutions. 

„ „ „ Village  Communities  in  the  Past  and  West.  8vo. 

1871. 

Mai. — Malcolm  (Sir  J.)  Memoir  of  Central  India.  3rd  Ed.  2 vols.  8vo. 
1832. 

„ ,,  „ History  of  Persia. 

Mall. — Mallet  (P.  H.)  Northern  Antiquities.  Translated  by  Bishop  Percy. 
London,  1847. 

M.  & C. — Manners  and  Customs  of  Japan. 

Mann. — Mann,  Transactions  Pthnological  Society.  New  Series,  v. 

Mar. — Mariner  (W.)  Account  of  the  Natives  of  the  Tonga  Islands.  2 vols. 
8vo.  1818. 

Mars. — Marsden  (W.)  History  of  Sumatra.  3rd  Ed.  4to.  1811. 

Marsh. — Marshall  (Lieut. -Col.  W.  E.)  A Phrenologist  among  the  Todas . 
London,  1873. 

Martin. — Martin  (H.)  Histoire  de  la  Prance . Yols.  i,  iii  (Ed.  1855-61), 
others,  2nd  Ed.  Paris,  1844. 

Martin. — Martin  (M.)  Account  of  the  Western  Isles  of  Scotland.  1716. 
Mart. — Martineau  (Harriet)  History  of  Pngland  during  the  Thirty  Years' 
Peace.  1849-50.  Library  Ed. 

,,  „ „ Introduction  to  History  of  Thirty  Years' 

Peace.  Bohn’s  Ed. 

Mason. — Mason,  Journal  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal. 

Mau. — Maury  in  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes. 

May. — May  (Sir  Thos.  Erskine)  Democracy  in  Purope.  London,  1877. 

May. — Mayer  (S.)  Die  Rechte  der  Israeliten , Athener  u.  Romer.  Leipzig, 
1862. 

Maz. — Mazoroz  (J.  P.)  Histoire  des  Corporations  Frangaises  $ arts  et  metiers. 
Paris,  1878. 

M’Cull. — M’Culloch,  Selections  from  Records  of  Government  of  India. 

McM. — McMahon  (Lieut.  A.  R.)  The  Karens  of  the  Golden  Chersonese . 
Moray.  —Moray  (A.)  La  vie  au  temps  des  trouveres.  Paris,  1873. 


684 


POLITICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


Metz. — Metz  (Rev.  F.)  Tribes  Inhabiting  the  Neilgherry  Hills. 

Mich. — Michie  (Alex.)  Siberian  Overland  Route.  London,  1864. 

Mit. — Mitford  (A.  B.)  Tales  of  Old  Japan.  2 vols.  p.  8vo.  1871. 

Mitch. — Mitchell  (Sir  T.  L.)  Journal  of  Expedition  into  New  South  Wales . 
2nd  Ed.  2 vols.  8vo.  1839. 

Moff. — Moffat  (Robt.)  Missionary  labours  and  Scenes  in  South  Africa . 
Mom. — Mommsen,  History  of  Rome.  Dickson’s  Trans.  1862. 

Mor. — Morgan  (L.  H.)  League  of  the  Iroquois . Rochester,  1851. 

Mor.  — Morier  in  Cobden  Club  Essays. 

Mot. — Motley  (J.  L.)  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic.  1861. 

Mov. — Movers  (F.  C.)  Die  Phoenizier.  Bonn  u.  Berlin,  1841,  &c. 

Onde. — Ondegardo  (Pe  de)  Narratives  of  the  Rites  and  Laws  of  the  Yncas . 

Translated  by  Markham.  London,  1878. 

Ord. — Ordonnances  des  rois  de  France.  Paris,  1723,  ff. 

Ouch. — Ouchterlony  (Col.)  A Geographical  and  Statistical  Memoir  of  a 
Survey  of  the  Neilgherry  Hills  [printed  with  Shortt’s  Hill  Ranges ]. 
1847. 

Pal. — Palgrave  (W.  J.)  Narrative  of  a Year's  Journey  through  Central  and 
Eastern  Arabia.  London,  1865. 

Pall. — Pallas  (P.  S.)  Voyages  en  different es  Provinces  de  V Empire  de 
Russie , Sfc. 

Par. — Parkyn  (Mansfield)  Life  in  Abyssinia.  London,  1853. 

Park. — Park  (Mungo)  Travels  in  Interior  Districts  of  Af  rica.  1816. 

Patt. — Patterson  (Arthur  J.)  The  Magyars  : their  Country  and  Institutions . 
London,  1869. 

Pear. — Pearson  (C.  H.)  The  Early  and  Middle  Ages  of  England.  1867. 
Pemb. — Pemberton' s Voyages. 

Pied. — Piedrahita  (L.  Fernandez  de)  Historia  del  Nuevo  Regno  de  Granada. 
Amberes,  1688. 

Pike. — Pike  (L.  O.)  History  of  Crime  in  England.  1871. 

Prid. — Pridliam  (Chas.)  Historical,  Political,  and  Statistical  Account  of 
Ceylon.  2 vols.  8vo.  1849. 

Pot. — Potter  (J.,  d.d.)  Archcelogica  Grceca,  or  the  Antiquities  of  Greece . 
Edinburgh,  1827. 

Pres. — Prescott  (VY.  H.)  Conquest  of  Peru.  London,  1847. 

Proy  (Pink). — Proyart  in  Pinkerton's  Travels. 

Raf. — Raffles  (Sir  T.  S.)  History  of  Java.  2 vols.  4to.  1817. 

Ram. — Rambles  in  Syria. 

Ranke. — Ranke,  The  Civil  Wars  and  Monarchy  in  France.  Trans.  2 vols* 
London,  1852. 

Raw. — Rawlmson  (G-.)  Five  Ancient  Monarchies.  4 vols.  1862-7. 

Rea. — Reade  (W.  Winwood)  Savage  Africa.  8vo.  1S63. 

Rec. — Records  of  the  Past , being  English  Translations  of  the  Assyrian  and 
Egyptian  Monuments.  London. 

Ree. — Reeves  (J.)  History  of  the  English  Law. 

Ren. — Rennie  (Dr.  D.  F.)  Rhotan  and  the  Story  of  the  Dooar  War. 
London,  1866. 

Rev.  Sib. — Revelations  of  Siberia.  London,  1853. 

Rich. — Richter  (Gr.)  Annalen  der  deutsche  Geschichte  im  Mittelalter.  Halle, 
1873. 

Roth. — Roth  (P.)  Feudalitat  und  Tint erthanenverb and.  Weimar,  1863. 

Saha. — Sahagun  (Fr.  Bernardino  de)  Historia  General  de  las  Cosas  de  Nueva 
Espdha  [1569].  De  la  a luz  C.  M.  de  Bustamente.  Mexico,  1829-30. 
Salv. — Salvianus,  De  Gubernatione  Dei. 

Sang. — Sangermano  (Father)  Description  of  the  Rurmese  Empire.  Roy.  4to. 
Rome,  1833. 


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685 


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Thom. — Thomson’s  (Dr.  A.  S.)  The  Story  of  New  Zealand  Past  and  Present . 
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London,  1873. 

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Turp. — Turpin’s  Siam  in  PinlcertorC  s Travels. 

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Wil. — Williams  (S.  Wells)  The  Middle  Kingdom.  1848. 

Wilk. — Wilkinson  (Sir  J.  G.)  Manners  and  Customs  of  the  Ancient 
Eqyptians.  New  edition,  revised  and  corrected  by  Samuel  Birch 
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of  Sierra  Leone.  London,  1803. 

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1841. 

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Compans.  Paris,  I84G. 


u The  American  Constitution  is  the  most  Wonderful  work  ever  struck  off 
at  a given  time  by  the  brain  and  purpose  of  man T— W4  E,  Gladstone* 


HISTORY 


Formation 


OF  THE 

of  the  Constitution 

OF  THE 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 

By  GEORGE  BANCROFT. 

Uniform  withy  and  a continuation  of  the  author's  u History  of  the  United 
States T 


2 Vols.,  8vo*  Cloth,  $2.50  per  voL 


These  volumes,  while  published  separately,  really  form  the  eleventh  and 
twelfth  volumes  of  the  ” History  of  the  United  States,”  being  directly  connected 
with  volume  ten,  last  published. 

“ This  long-expected  continuation  of  the  magnum  opus  of  Mr.  Bancroft  has 
come  at  last,  and,  alike  in  perfection  of  style  and  fullness  of  contents,  it  abun« 
dantly  justifies  the  more  than  Horatian  delay  brought  by  the  venerable  author  to 
its  preparation.  In  the  grave  and  judicial  summing  up  of  its  judgments  on  the 
great  men  and  the  great  events  here  passed  in  review,  it  does  not  suffer  at  all  by 
comparison  with  the  immortal  work  of  Thucydides,  and  it  differs  from  the  poigu- 
ant  brevity  of  Tacitus  only  because  Mr.  Bancroft  is  broader  and  more  liberal  in 
his  philosophy.”— New  York  Herald. 

” Mr.  George  Bancroft,  in  his  eighty -second  year— an  age  which  few  men  reach, 
and  at  which  few  of  those  who  do  reach  it  retain  the  disposition  or  the  capacity 
for  protracted  literary  labor— sends  out  to  the  world  a work  which,  in  its  clear- 
ness and  strength  of  diction,  its  breadth  of  scope,  its  wealth  of  fresh  material, 
and  its  philosophic  grasp  of  events  and  their  causes,  would  have  reflected  honor 
upon  his  prime.  His  ‘ History  of  the  Formation  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States  of  America’  may  be  viewed  either  as  a continuation  of  his  previous  ‘His- 
tory of  the  United  States,’  or  as  an  independent  work ; and,  Viewed  in  either 
aspect,  it  is  a contribution  to  our  literature  of  singular  value  and  importance.’-— 
Boston  Journal. 

“ It  is  nearly  a half-century  since  George  Bancroft  published  the  first  volume 
of  the  work  by  which  his  reputation  has  chiefly  been  made,  and  on  which  alone 
it  will  rest  in  after-time.  He  now  gives  to  the  world  two  additional  volumes  of 
his  colossal  undertaking,  for,  although  possessing  another  title,  they,  in  truth, 
are  but  a part  of  the  work  begun  so  long  ago.  As  now  known,  his  ‘History  of 
the  United  States  ’ ends  with  the  peace.  These  volumes,  therefore,  take  up  the 
narrative  where  volume  ten  (the  last  one  published)  leaves  it  off,  and  thus  become 
as  much  a continuation  of  the  story  as  if  they  followed  as  volumes  eleven  and 
twelve  of  the  ‘ History  of  the  United  States.’  "—New  York  Times. 

“ In  the  historical  literature  of  the  world,  Bancroft’s  History  is  a recognized 
authority  concerning  the  period  which  it  covers.  It  is  not  merely  a narrative, 
but  a philosophical  treatise,  dealing  with  causes  and  principles  as  well  as  events, 
and  tracing  with  remarkable  skill  the  progress  of  enlightenment  and  liberal 
ideas.  The  same  plan  that  was  followed  in  the  first  ten  has  been  faithfully  pur- 
sued in  these  last  two  volumes,  to  which  the  student  may  turn  with  pride  and 
find  stored  up  for  his  use  the  facts  he  seeks.”—  Chicago  Tribune. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers ; or  sent  by  mail,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price. 


New  York : D.  APPLETON  k CO.,  1,  3,  & 5 Bond  Street 


THE  HISTORY  OF  EHGLAID 

IN  THE 

EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY. 

By  W.  E.  H.  LECKY, 

Author  of  “ History  of  the  Rise  and  Influence  of  the  Spirit  of  Rationalism  in 
Europe,”  etc. 

Volumes  III  and  IV,  extending  from  the  accession  of  George  III  to  1784.  tlie 
opening  year  of  Pitt's  first  ministry,  and  covering  the  period  of  the  American 
Revolution.  Published  by  arrangement  with  the  author. 


Large  12mo.  Uniform  with  Vols.  I and  If  of  which  new  editions  are 
now  ready. 


The  4 vols*,  cloth,  $2*25  each* 


44  This  section  of  the  work  covers  the  first  twenty-two  years  of  the  reign  of 
George  III,  a period  which,,  in  its  bearing  on  constitutional,  political,  and  social 
problems,  was  the  most  pregnant  in  the  modern  history  of  Great  Britain,  it 
was  during  these  momentous  years  that  the  relation  of  the  Crown  to  a Ministry 
representing  the  House  of  Commons  was  definitely  fixed,  that  the  necessity  of 
parliamentary  reform  and  the  expediency  of  abolishing  Catholic  disabilities  were 
distinctly  recognized,  and  that  the  influence  of  the  newspaper  press  acquired 
Unprecedented  weight  among  political  agencies,  and  called  for  new  guarantees 
of  freedom  by  changes  in  the  law  of  libel.  This  was  the  period  of  Burke's  most 
potent  and  exemplary  activity,  of  the  Middlesex  election  in  which  Wilkes  played 
a part  analogous  to  that  taken  by  Bradlaugh  in  our  own  day,  of  the  ministries  of 
Bute,  Grenville,  Rockingham,  Chatham,  Shelburne,  and  the  younger  Pitt. 

“At  home  and  abroad  this  quarter  of  a century  was  memorable  for  conquests 
and  revolutions.  The  affairs  of  the  East  India  Company  were  administered  by 
Clive,  and  the  vast  accessions  of  territory  in  Bengal  were  supplemented  by  those 
resulting  from  the  war  with  Hyder  Ali.  In  America  the  discontent  of  the  thirteen 
colonies  had  ripened  into  open  revolt,  and  all  the  phases  of  the  contest  are  ex- 
hibited in  these  volumes,  up  to  the  last  year  of  exhaustion  and  inaction  which 
preceded  the  final  peace.  Simultaneous  with  this  movement  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Atlantic  was  the  growth  of  political  discontent  in  Ireland,  which  culminated 
in  the  demand  for  legislative  independence.  All  of  these  topics  are  carefully 
discussed  by  Mr.  Lecky.  and  the  spirit  which  he  evinces  is  so  candid  and  impartial 
that  his  conclusions  will  be  listened  to  with  attention  and  respect,  even  where 
they  run  counter  to  the  reader’s  individual  opinions  and  predilections.”— New 
York  Sun. 

“ The  directness  and  lucidity  of  style,  the  copiousness  of  information,  and  the 
manifest  endeavor  to  be  strictly  accurate  and  impartial,  which  were  strongly 
marked  characteristics  of  the  earlier  volumes,  are  dominant  features  also  in  these. 
His  work,  so  far  as  it  has  progressed,  will  be  by  common  consent  awarded  its 
place  as  the  most  important  and  impartial  history  of  the  period.” — Boston  Journal. 

44  The  two  new  volumes  of  Lecky’s  4 History  of  England  ’ will  prove  of  special 
interest  to  Americans,  as  they  cover  the  period  of  the  American  Revolution,  and 
treat  of  statesmen,  soldiers,  authors,  and  philosophers,  whose  memories  are 
enshrined  in  the  hearts  of  the  American  people.  His  history  of  this  period  will 
present  many  points  of  interest  when  compared  with  that  of  the  American  his- 
torian Bancroft,  whose  latest  work,  by  a happy  coincidence,  is  simultaneously 
published  with  Mr.  Lecky’s.”—  Chicago  Journal . 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers  ; or  sent  by  mail , post-paid , on  receipt  of  price . 


New  York;  D.  APPLETON  & CO.,  1,  3,  & 5 Bond  Street. 


THE  SYNTHETIC  PHILOSOPHY 


HERBERT  SPENCER. 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES. 

1 vol.  $2.00. 


CONTENTS. 

Part  I.*- The  Unknowable. 

1 Religion  and  Science.  4.  The  Relativity  of  all  Knowl 


2.  Ultimate  Religious  Ideas. 

3.  Ultimate  Scientific  Ideas. 


edge. 

The  Reconciliation. 


Part  II.— The  Knowable. 


1.  Philosophy  defined. 

2.  The  Data  of  Philosophy. 

3.  Space,  Time,  Matter,  Motion, 

and  Force. 

4.  The  Indestructibility  of  Matter. 

5.  The  Continuity  of  Motion. 

6.  The  Persistence  of  Force. 

7.  The  Persistence  of  Relations 

among  Forces. 

8.  The  Transformation  and  Equiv- 

alence of  Forces. 

9.  The  Direction  of  Motion. 

10.  The  Rhythm  of  Motion. 

11.  Recapitulation,  Criticism,  and 

Recommencement. 

12.  Evolution  and  Dissolution. 

24.  Summary 


(con. 

(con. 

(con- 


13.  Simple  and  Compound  Evolu- 

tion. 

14.  The  Law  of  Evolution. 

15.  The  Law  of  Evolution 

tinued). 

16.  The  Law  of  Evolution 

tinued). 

17.  The  Law  of  Evolution 

eluded). 

1 8.  The  Interpretation  of  Evolution. 

19.  The  Instability  of  the  Homoge* 

neous. 

20.  The  Multiplication  of  Effects. 

21.  Segregation. 

22.  Equilibration. 

23.  Dissolution, 
and  Conclusion. 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  BIOLOGY, 

2 vols.  $4.00. 

CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  I. 

Part  I. — The  Data  of  Biology. 


1.  Organic  Matter. 

2.  The  Actions  of  Forces  on  Or- 

ganic Matter. 

8.  The  Reactions  of  Organic  Mat- 
ter on  Forces. 


7.  The  Scope  of  Biology. 


4.  Proximate  Definition  of  Life. 

5.  The  Correspondence  between 

Life  and  its  Circumstances. 

6.  The  Degree  of  Life  varies  as  the 
Degree  of  Correspondence. 


2 spencer’s  SYNTHETIC  PHILOSOPHY- 


Part  II. 

1.  Growth. 

2.  Development. 

3.  Function. 

4.  Waste  and  Repair. 

6.  Adaptation. 

0 Individuality. 


-The  Inductions  of  Biology. 

7.  Genesis. 

8.  Heredity. 

9.  Variation. 

10.  Genesis,  Heredity,  and  Varia- 

tion. 

11.  Classification. 

12.  Distribution. 


Part  III.— The  Evolution  of  Life. 


1.  Preliminary. 

2.  General  Aspects  of  the  Special- 

Creation  Hypothesis. 

5.  General  Aspects  of  the  Evolu- 

tion Hypothesis. 

4.  The  Arguments  from  Classifica- 
tion. 

6.  The  Arguments  from  Embryol- 

ogy. 

6.  The  Arguments  from  Morphol- 
ogy. 


7.  The  Arguments  from  Distribu- 

tion. 

8.  How  is  Organic  Evolution 

caused  ? 

9.  External  Factors. 

10.  Internal  Factors. 

11.  Direct  Equilibration. 

12.  Indirect  Equilibration. 

13.  The  Cooperation  of  the  Factors. 

14.  The  Convergence  of  the  Evi- 

dences. 


CONTEXTS  OF  VOL.  II. 

Part  IV. — Morphological  Development. 


1.  The  Problems  of  Morphology. 

2.  The  Morphological  Composition 

of  Plants. 

8.  The  Morphological  Composition 
of  Plants  (continued). 

4.  The  Morphological  Composition 
of  Animals. 

6.  The  Morphological  Composition 
of  Animals  (continued). 

6.  Morphological  Differentiation  in 

Plants. 

7.  The  General  Shapes  of  Plants. 

8.  The  Shapes  of  Branches. 


9.  The  Shapes  of  Leaves. 

10.  The  Shapes  of  Flowers. 

11.  The  Shapes  of  Vegetal  Cells. 

12.  Changes  of  Shape  otherwise 

caused. 

13.  Morphological  Differentiation  in 

Animals. 

14.  The  General  Shapes  of  Animals. 

15.  The  Shapes  of  Vertebrate  Skele- 

tons. 

16.  The  Shapes  of  Animal  Cells. 

17.  Summary  of  Morphological  De- 

velopment. 


Part  V.— Physiological  Development. 


1.  The  Problems  of  Physiology. 

2.  Differentiations  among  the  Out- 

er and  Inner  Tissues  of  Plants. 

3.  Differentiations  among  the  Out- 

er Tissues  of  Plants. 

4.  Differentiations  among  the  In- 

ner Tissues  of  Plants. 

5.  Physiological  Integration  in 

Plants. 


6.  Differentiations  between  the 

Outer  and  Inner  Tissues  of 
Animals. 

7.  Differentiations  among  the  Out- 

er Tissues  of  Animals. 

8.  Differentiations  among  the  In- 

ner Tissues  of  Animals. 

9.  Physiological  Integration  in  In 

imals. 


10.  Summary  of  Physiological  Development. 


spencer’s  synthetic  philosophy. 


3 


Part  VI. — Laws  of  Multiplication. 


1.  The  Factors. 

2.  A priori  Principle. 

3.  Obverse  a priori  Principle. 

4.  Difficulties  of  Inductive  Verifi- 

cation. 

5.  Antagonism  between  Growth 

and  Asexual  Genesis. 

6.  Antagonism  between  Growth 

and  Sexual  Genesis. 

*J.  Antagonism  between  Develop- 
ment and  Genesis,  Asexual 
and  Sexual. 


A Criticism  on  Professor  Owen’s  The- 
ory of  the  Vertebrate  Skeleton. 


8.  Antagonism  between  Expendi- 

ture and  Genesis. 

9.  Coincidence  between  High  Nu- 

trition and  Genesis. 

10.  Specialties  of  these  Rela- 

tions. 

11.  Interpretation  and  Qualifica- 

tion. 

12.  Multiplication  of  the  Human 

Race. 

13.  Human  Evolution  in  the  Fu- 
ture. 


On  Circulation  and  the  Formation 
of  Wood  in  Plants. 


Appendix. 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PSYCHOLOGY, 

2 vols.  $4.00. 

CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  /. 

Part  I. — The  Data  of  Psychology. 


1.  The  Nervous  System. 

2.  The  Structure  of  the  Nervous 

System. 

3.  The  Functions  of  the  Nervous 

System. 


4.  The  Conditions  essential  to  Ner- 

vous Action. 

5.  Nervous  Stimulation  and  Ner- 

vous Discharge. 

6.  Aestho-Physiology. 


Part  II. — The  Inductions  of  Psychology. 


1.  The  Substance  of  Mind. 

2.  The  Composition  of  Mind. 

3.  The  Relativity  of  Feelings. 

4.  The  Relativity  of  Relations  be- 

tween Feelings. 

5.  The  Revivability  of  Feelings. 

Part  III. — General  Synthesis. 


6.  The  Revivability  of  Relations 

between  Feelings. 

7.  The  Associability  of  Feelings. 

8.  The  Associability  of  Relations 

between  Feelings. 

9.  Pleasures  and  Pains. 


1.  Life  and  Mind  as  Correspon- 

dence. 

2.  The  Correspondence  as  Direct 

and  Homogeneous. 

3.  The  Correspondence  as  Direct 

but  Heterogeneous. 

4.  The  Correspondence  as  extend- 

ing in  Space. 

5.  The  Correspondence  as  extend- 

ing in  Time. 


6.  The  Correspondence  as  increas- 

ing  in  Specialty. 

7.  The  Correspondence  as  increas- 

ing in  Generality. 

8.  The  Correspondence  as  increas- 

ing in  Complexity. 

9.  The  Coordination  of  Correspon- 

dences. 

10.  The  Integration  of  Correspon- 
dences. 


11.  The  Correspondences  in  their  Totality. 


i 


spencer's  synthetic  philosophy. 


1. 

2. 

3. 

4. 


1. 

2. 

3. 


4. 


5. 


1. 

2. 

3. 

4. 

5. 

6. 

7. 

8. 
9. 

10. 


II. 


12. 


Part  IV. — Special  Synthesis. 


The  Nature  of  Intelligence.  5.  Instinct. 

The  Law  of  Intelligence.  6.  Memory. 

The  Growth  of  Intelligence.  7.  Reason. 

Reflex  Action.  8.  The  Feelings. 

9.  The  Will. 


Part  V. — Physical  Synthesis. 


A Further  Interpretation  need- 
ed. 

The  Genesis  of  Nerves. 

The  Genesis  of  Simple  Nervous 
Systems. 

The  Genesis  of  Compound  Ner- 
vous Systems. 

The  Genesis  of  Doubly  Com- 
pound Nervous  Systems. 


6.  Functions  as  related  to  these 

Structures. 

7.  Physical  Laws  as  thus  inter- 

preted. 

8.  Evidence  from  Normal  Varia- 

tions. 

9.  Evidence  from  Abnormal  Va- 

riations. 

10.  Results. 


Appendix. 

On  the  Action  of  Anaesthetics  and  Narcotics. 


CONTEXTS  OF  VOL.  II. 


Limitation  of  the  Subject. 

Compound  Quantitative  Reason- 
ing. 

Compound  Quantitative  Reason- 
ing (continued). 

Imperfect  and  Simple  Quantita- 
tive Reasoning. 

Quantitative  Reasoning  in  gen- 
eral. 

Perfect  Qualitative  Reasoning. 

Imperfect  Qualitative  Reason- 
ing. 

Reasoning  in  general. 

Classification,  Naming,  and  Rec- 
ognition. 

The  Perception  of  Special  Ob- 
jects. 

The  Perception  of  Body  as  pre- 
senting Dynamical,  Statico- 
Dynamical,  and  Statical  Attri- 
butes. 

The  Perception  of  Body  as  pre-  25. 
senting  Statico-Dynamical  and  26. 
Statical  Attributes.  27. 


The  Perception  of  Body  as 
presenting  Statical  Attri- 
butes. 

The  Perception  of  Space. 

The  Perception  of  Time. 

The  Perception  of  Motion. 

The  Perception  of  Resist- 
ance. 

Perception  in  general. 

The  Relations  of  Similarity  and 
Dissimilarity. 

The  Relations  of  Cointension 
and  Non-Cointension. 

The  Relations  of  Coextension 
and  Non-Coextension. 

The  Relations  of  Coexistence 
and  Non-Coexistence. 

The  Relations  of  Connature  and 
Non-Connature. 

The  Relations  of  Likeness  and 
Unlikeness. 

The  Relation  of  Sequence. 

Consciousness  in  general. 

Results. 


Part  VI. — Special  Analysis. 
13. 


14. 

15. 

16. 

17. 

18. 

19. 

20. 
21. 
22. 

23. 

24. 


spencer's  synthetic  philosophy. 


5 


1. 

2. 

3. 

4. 

5. 

6. 

7. 

8. 
9. 

10. 


1. 

2. 

3. 

4 


1. 

2. 

3. 

4. 

5. 

6. 

7. 

8. 
9. 

10. 

11. 


12. 

13. 

14. 


Part  VII.— General  Analysis. 


The  Final  Question. 

The  Assumption  of  Metaphysi- 
cians. 

The  Words  of  Metaphysicians. 

The  Reasonings  of  Metaphysi- 
cians. [ism. 

Negative  Justification  of  Real- 

The  Argument  from  Priority. 

The  Argument  from  Simplicity. 

The  Argument  from  Distinct- 

A Criterion  wanted.  [ness. 

Propositions  qualitatively  dis- 
tinguished. 


11.  The  Universal  Postulate. 

12.  The  Test  of  Relative  Validity. 

13.  Its  Corollaries. 

14.  Positive  Justification  of  Real- 

ism. 

15.  The  Dynamics  of  Consciousness. 

16.  Partial  Differentiation  of  Sub- 

ject and  Object. 

17.  Completed  Differentiation  of 

Subject  and  Object. 

18.  Developed  Conception  of  the 

Object. 

19.  Transfigured  Realism. 


6.  Sociality  and  Sympathy. 

6.  Egoistic  Sentiments. 

7.  Ego-Altruistic  Sentiments. 

8.  Altruistic  Sentiments. 


Part  VIII. — Corollaries. 

Special  Psychology. 

Classification. 

Development  of  Conceptions. 

Language  of  the  Emotions. 

9.  Aesthetic  Sentiments. 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Vol.  I.  $2.00. 

CONTENTS. 

Part  I. — The  Data  of  Sociology. 


Super-Organic  Evolution. 

The  Factors  of  Social  Phenom- 
ena. 

Original  External  Factors. 

Original  Internal  Factors. 

The  Primitive  Man — Physical. 

The  Primitive  Man — Emotional. 

The  Primitive  Man  — Intellec- 
tual. 

Primitive  Ideas. 

The  Ideas  of  the  Animate  and 
the  Inanimate. 

The  Ideas  of  Sleep  and  Dreams. 

The  Ideas  of  Swoon,  Apoplexy, 
Catalepsy,  Ecstasy,  and  other 
Forms  of  Insensibility. 

The  Ideas  of  Death  and  Resur- 
rection. 

The  Ideas  of  Souls,  Ghosts, 
Spirits,  Demons. 

The  Ideas  of  Another  Life. 


15.  The  Ideas  of  Another  World. 

16.  The  Ideas  of  Supernatural 

Agents. 

17.  Supernatural  Agents  as  causing 

Epilepsy  and  Convulsive  Ac- 
tions, Delirium  and  Insanity, 
Disease  and  Death. 

18.  Inspiration,  Divination,  Exor- 

cism, and  Sorcery. 

19.  Sacred  Places,  Temples,  and 

Altars  ; Sacrifice,  Fasting,  and 
Propitiation;  Praise,  Prayer. 

20.  Ancestor- Worship  in  general. 

21.  Idol- Worship  and  Fetich- Wor- 

ship. 

22.  Animal-Worship. 

23.  Plant-Worship. 

24.  Nature-Worship. 

25.  Deities. 

26.  The  Primitive  Theory  of  Things. 
27\  The  Scope  of  Sociology. 


6 


spencer’s  synthetic  philosophy. 


Part  II. — The  Inductions  of  Sociology. 


1 . What  is  a Society  ? 

2.  A Society  is  an  Organism. 

3.  Social  Growth. 

4.  Social  Structures. 

6.  Social  Functions. 

6.  Systems  of  Organs. 


7.  The  Sustaining  System. 

8.  The  Distributing  System. 

9.  The  Regulating  System. 

10.  Social  Types  and  Constitutions 

11.  Social  Metamorphoses. 

12.  Qualifications  and  Summary. 


Part  III.— The  Domestic  Relations. 


1.  The  Maintenance  of  Species. 

2.  The  Diverse  Interests  of  the 

Species,  of  the  Parents,  and 
of  the  Offspring. 

3.  Primitive  Relations  of  the  Sexe3. 

4.  Exogamy  and  Endogamy. 

5.  Promiscuity. 


6.  Polyandry. 

7.  Polygyny. 

' 8.  Monogamy. 

9.  The  Family. 

10.  The  Status  of  Women. 

11.  The  Status  of  Children. 

12.  Domestic  Retrospect  and  Pros- 

pect. 


Yol.  II. 


Part  IV. — Ceremonial  Institutions.  $1.25. 


1.  Ceremony  in  general. 

2.  Trophies. 

3.  Mutilations. 

4.  Presents. 

6.  Visits. 

6.  Obeisances. 


CONTENTS. 

7.  Forms  of  Address. 

8.  Titles. 

9.  Badges  and  Costumes. 

10.  Further  Class-Distinctions. 

11.  Fashion. 

12.  Ceremonial  Retrospect  and 
Prospect. 


Yol.  II. 


Part  Y. — Political  Institutions.  $ 
CONTENTS. 


1.  Preliminary. 

2.  Political  Organization  in  gen- 

eral. 

3.  Political  Integration. 

4.  Political  Differentiation. 

5.  Political  Forms  and  Forces. 

6.  Political  Heads — Chiefs,  Kings, 

etc. 

7.  Compound  Political  Heads. 

8.  Consultative  Bodies. 

9.  Representative  Bodies. 


10.  Ministries. 

11.  Local  Governing  Agencies. 

12.  Military  Systems. 

13.  Judicial  and  Executive  Systems. 

14.  Laws. 

15.  Property. 

16.  Revenue. 

17.  The  Militant  Type  of  Society. 

18.  The  Industrial  Type  of  Society. 

19.  Political  Retrospect  and  Pros- 

pect. 


Yol.  III. 

In  Reparation. 


spencer’s  synthetic  philosophy. 


7 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  MORALITY. 

Yol.  I. 

Part  I. — The  Data  of  Ethics.  $1.25. 


CONTENTS \ 


1.  Conduct  in  general. 

2.  The  Evolution  of  Conduct. 

3.  Good  and  Bad  Conduct. 

4.  Ways  of  judging  Conduct. 

6.  The  Physical  View. 

6.  The  Biological  View. 

7.  The  Psychological  View. 

8.  The  Sociological  View. 

9.  Criticisms  and  Explanations. 


10.  The  Relativity  of  Pains  and 

Pleasures. 

11.  Egoism  versus  Altruism. 

12.  Altruism  versus  Egoism. 

13.  Trial  and  Compromise. 

14.  Conciliation. 

15.  Absolute  Ethics  and  Relative 

Ethics. 

16.  The  Scope  of  Ethics. 


Vol.  II. 

In  preparation . 


This  philosophical  system  differs  from  all  its  predecessors  in  being 
solidly  based  on  the  sciences  of  observation  and  induction ; in  repre- 
senting the  order  and  course  of  Nature ; in  bringing  Nature  and  man, 
life,  mind,  and  society,  under  one  great  law  of  action ; and  in  developing 
a method  of  thought  which  may  serve  for  practical  guidance  in  dealing 
with  the  affairs  of  life. 

“ The  only  complete  and  systematic  statement  of  the  doctrine  of 
evolution  with  which  I am  acquainted  is  that  contained  in  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer’s  ‘System  of  Philosophy,’  a work  which  should  be  carefully 
studied  by  all  who  desire  to  know  whither  scientific  thought  is  tending.” 
— T.  H.  Huxley. 

“ Mr.  Spencer  is  one  of  the  most  vigorous  as  well  as  boldest  thinkers 
that  English  speculation  has  yet  produced.” — John  Stuart  Mill. 


New  York:  D.  APPLETON  & CO.,  1,  3,  & 5 Bond  Street. 


THE  MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS 


or 

HERBERT  SPENCER. 


EDUCATION: 

INTELLECTUAL,  MORAL,  AND  PHYSICAL. 

1 vol.  $1.25. 

CONTENTS. 

\ What  Knowledge  is  of  most  2.  Intellectual  Education. 
Worth  ? 3.  Moral  Education. 

4.  Physical  Education. 


SOCIAL  STATICS; 


OR, 

THE  CONDITIONS  ESSENTIAL  TO  HUMAN  HAPPINESS  SPEC! 
FIED,  AND  THE  FIRST  OF  THEM  DEVELOPED. 

1 vol.  $2.00. 


CONTENTS. 

Introduction. 

The  Doctrine  of  Expediency.  Lemma  I. 

The  Doctrine  of  the  Moral  Sense.  Lemma  II. 

Part  I. 

1.  Definition  of  Morality.  3.  The  Divine  Idea,  and  the  Con- 

2.  The  Evanescence  of  Evil.  ditions  of  its  Realization. 


Part  II. 


4.  Derivation  of  a First  Principle. 

5.  Secondary  Derivation  of  a First 

Principle. 

6.  First  Principle.  [ciple. 

*7.  Application  of  this  First  Prin- 

8.  The  Rights  of  Life  and  Per- 

sonal Liberty. 

9.  The  Right  to  the  Use  of  the 

Earth. 


10.  The  Right  of  Property. 

11.  The  Right  of  Property  in  Ideas. 

12.  The  Right  of  Property  in  Char- 

acter. 

13.  The  Right  of  Exchange. 

14.  The  Right  of  Free  Speech. 

15.  Further  Rights. 

16.  The  Rights  of  Women. 
lY.  The  Rights  of  Children. 


spencer's  miscellaneous  works. 


9 


Part  III. 


18.  Political  Rights. 

19.  The  Right  to  ignore  the  State. 

20.  The  Constitution  of  the  State. 

21.  The  Duty  of  the  State. 

22.  The  Limit  of  State-Duty. 

23.  The  Regulation  of  Commerce. 


24.  Religious  Establishment. 

25.  Poor-Laws. 

26.  National  Education. 

27.  Government  Colonization. 

28.  Sanitary  Supervision.  [etc. 

29.  Currency,  Postal  Arrangements, 


30.  General  Considerations. 


Part  IV. 

31.  Summary. 
32.  Conclusion. 


THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

1 vol.  $1.50. 

CONTENTS. 


1.  Our  Need  of  it. 

2.  Is  there  a Social  Science  ? 

3.  Nature  of  the  Social  Science. 

4.  Difficulties  of  the  Social  Science. 

5.  Objective  Difficulties. 

6.  Subjective  Difficulties  — Intel- 

lectual. 

7.  Subjective  Difficulties  — Emo- 

tional. 


8.  The  Educational  Bias. 

9.  The  Bias  of  Patriotism. 

10.  The  Class-Bias. 

11.  The  Political  Bias. 

12.  The  Theological  Bias. 

13.  Discipline. 

14.  Preparation  in  Biology. 

15.  Preparation  in  Psychology. 

16.  Conclusion. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  UNIVERSAL  PROG- 
RESS. 

1 vol.  $2.00. 


CONTENTS. 


1.  Progress:  its  Law  and  Cause. 

2.  Manners  and  Fashion. 

3.  The  Genesis  of  Science. 

4.  The  Physiology  of  Laughter. 

5.  The  Origin  and  Function  of  Mu- 

6.  The  Nebular  Hypothesis,  [sic. 

7.  Bain  on  the  Emotions  and  the 

Will. 


8.  Illogical  Geology. 

9.  Development  Hypothesis. 

10.  The  Social  Organism. 

11.  Use  and  Beauty. 

12.  The  Sources  of  Architectural 

Types. 

13.  The  Use  of  Anthropomor- 

phism. 


ESSAYS: 

MORAL,  POLITICAL,  AND  AESTHETIC. 

1 vol.  $2.00. 

CONTENTS. 

t.  The  Philosophy  of  Style.  3.  The  Morals  of  Trade. 

2.  Our  Legislation.  4.  Personal  Beauty. 


10 


spencer’s  miscellaneous  works. 


6.  Representative  Government. 

6.  Prison  Ethics. 

7.  Railway  Morals  and  Railway 

Policies. 

8.  Gracefulness. 


9.  State  Tamperings  with  Money 
and  Banks. 

10.  Parliamentary  Reforms : the 

Dangers  and  the  Safeguards. 

11.  Mill  versus  Hamilton — the  Test 

of  Truth. 


RECENT  DISCUSSIONS 

In  Science,  Philosophy,  and  Morals.  1 vol. 
CONTENTS. 


2.00. 


1.  Morals  and  Moral  Sentiments. 

2.  Origin  of  Animal- Worship. 

8.  The  Classification  of  the  Sci- 
ences. 

4.  Postscript : Replying  to  Criti- 

cisms. 

5.  Reasons  for  dissenting  from 

the  Philosophy  of  Comte. 


6.  Of  Laws  in  general  and  the  Or- 

der of  their  Discovery. 

7.  The  Genesis  of  Science. 

8.  Specialized  Administrations. 

9.  What  is  Electricity  ? 

10.  The  Constitution  of  the  Sun. 

11.  The  Collective  Wisdom. 

12.  Political  Fetichism. 


13.  Mr.  Martineau  on  Evolution. 


DESCRIPTIVE  SOCIOLOGY: 

A Cyclopaedia  of  Social  Facts ; representing  the  Constitution  of  Every 
Type  and  Grade  of  Human  Society.  Classified  and  arranged  by 
Herbert  Spencer.  Compiled  and  abstracted  by  David  Duncan,  M.  A., 
Professor  of  Logic,  etc.,  in  the  Presidency  College,  Madras ; Richard 
Scheppig,  Ph.  D. ; and  James  Collier.  Royal  folio.  Parts  I to  VII, 
$4.00  each  ; No.  VIII  (Double  Number),  $7.00. 


No.  1.  English.  Compiled  and  abstracted  by  James  Collier. 

No.  2.  Ancient  Mexicans,  Central  Americans,  Chibchas,  and  An- 
cient Peruvians.  Compiled  and  abstracted  by  Richard 
Scheppig,  Ph.  D. 

No.  3.  Types  of  the  Lowest  Races.  Negrito  Races.  Malayo- 
Polynesian  Races.  Compiled  and  abstracted  by  Professor 
David  Duncan,  M.  A. 

No.  4.  African  Races.  Compiled  and  abstracted  by  Professor  David 
Duncan,  M.  A. 

No.  5.  Asiatic  Races.  Compiled  and  abstracted  by  Professor  David 
Duncan,  M.  A. 

No.  6.  North  and  South  American  Races.  Compiled  and  abstracted 
by  Professor  David  Duncan,  M.  A.  \ 

No.  7.  Hebrews  and  Phoenicians.  Compiled  and  abstracted  by  Rich- 
ard Scheppig,  Ph.  D. 

No.  8.  French.  Compiled  and  abstracted  by  James  Collier. 


New  York : D.  APPLETON  & CO.,  1,  3,  & 5 Bond  Street. 


